Saving Grace
by McLance
Summary: Harlie continues with her crusade of working to save animals. Any and all animals.
1. Chapter 1

The last week of summer seemed to fairly fly by. Hannah and Clare went to school enrollment with Guthrie and I. We rode in for it in Clare's

car. She let Guthrie drive and she sat up front, while Hannah and I were in the back seat. It felt strange as it always did, going into the

school after being out for three months. The floors were all shiny from being waxed, and there was just that whole general 'clean'

smell throughout the hallways. By the time the first day is over, the floors have already lost that 'just waxed' look, but for the

moment, I just enjoyed it. Hannah did most of the paperwork for the enrollment, and wrote out a check for our school fees.

Most of the teachers were working in their classrooms, preparing for the first day that was approaching.

I especially wanted to go talk to the journalism teacher, Miss McQueeney. Guthrie and Hannah had both found people to

talk to, so I took Clare along with me to the journalism classroom. I introduced Clare to the teacher, and we all talked for a few

minutes. I found that I was really looking forward to being on the school newspaper. Miss McQueeney is outgoing, even sort of

boisterous, I guess is the word. She asked me if I'd heard about the opportunity to do the work study program, the one that Cindy

had told Crane and I about earlier in the summer. I told her that I had, and she encouraged me to go to the office and get the

paperwork for it.

"That will fill up quickly, I believe," she told me. "Of course, keeping the grades all at a 3.0 average might be a deterrent for

some students."

So, before we left, I went to the office and got the necessary paperwork for the program. On the way home I was reading over

it in the back seat, and Hannah was asking me questions about everything.

"So," she said, "Trigonometry, first period, right? And then Journalism? And then Art? That's before lunch?"

I looked over the card they'd given me with all my classes listed.

"Yes. That's before lunch. And then there's Psychology, and then at that time is when I would leave if I get into the program," I told her. "To

finish out the last two hours of the school day at a job."

"What are your other classes you got, though?" Hannah asked. "In case you decide not to do the program?"

I was sure that I wanted to do it, but I decided not to say that right then. I held out the card to Hannah.

"Spanish, and then Anatomy and Physiology, after Psychology?" she asked, reading from the card.

"Uh huh," I said, taking the card as she handed it back. I tucked it into my folder, with my locker number and

combination.

After that Hannah talked to Guthrie about the classes that he was going to have.

It was after supper that evening before I got the chance to talk to Crane about everything. He'd gone somewhere. I wasn't sure

where, and when I asked her, Hannah said she didn't know, either. I figured Adam or Brian knew, but by the time supper was over,

and the table was being cleared, I heard the sound of a truck outside.

"Crane's home," I said, and went running thru the living room, opening the front door, and going out to greet him on the

porch.

"Hi!" I said.

"Hi."

"I thought you were never going to get home!" I told him.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's not that. I just need to talk to you." As he looked at me expectantly, I went on, "About my classes, and the job program,

and everything."

"That's right," he said, remembering. "Today was enrollment, wasn't it?"

"Uh huh," I said, following him as he went inside. "There's some chicken left."

"I already ate," he said.

I figured that he'd gone out with Cindy, or something, so I grabbed the forms about the job program, and tagged after him, as he went thru

to the kitchen. He talked to Adam and Brian and everybody else for a few minutes. I waited, feeling impatient, until he had talked, and then gotten down

a glass and poured himself some tea.

"Alright," he said, looking at me. "Want to talk now?"

I said yes, and we went out the back door, going over to sit at the picnic table.

"So, tell me about your classes," he said.

I rattled off the order of my classes by the hour, and then handed off the papers to him.

Crane started reading over the forms, while he asked, "Anatomy and Physiology is last hour?"

"Yeah," I said, leaning closer to him, and pointing out things on the forms.

"I'd leave after fourth hour, to go to the vet office, to work with Ivy," I said, in excitement.

"Anatomy's a required class," he said. "You have to have the science credit. Leaving after fourth hour won't work."

"I've thought about that," I said, in a rush. "I can go back into the school office tomorrow, and see about getting into the 3rd hour

Anatomy class. Instead of Art. What do you think about that? That way I can fit it all in."

Crane laid the papers down on the table, and turned towards me.

"I want you to be sure about this. It's going to take a lot of hard work on your part," Crane said.

"It's such a good opportunity, though," I protested.

"I know it is. All I said was, I want you to be sure."

"I'm sure," I told him.

"You have some tough classes," Crane said. "Keeping them at a 3.0, and working, too. It's not going to be easy."

"I'll work hard," I promised him.

"I believe you." He paused, giving me an intense look. "You know how I feel, peanut. Your health is the most important

thing. I don't want you to forget to take care of yourself, just because you're busy."

"I won't."

When he still looked thoughtful, as though he was debating, I said, "Please, Crane, let me do it."

He nodded. "Alright."

"I'm really excited!" I told him.

"You'll have to make sure you can switch Anatomy with Art, though. If that doesn't work out, then you won't

be able to do it."

"I'll go in the morning to make sure." I held out a pen that I'd been holding. "Will you sign the permission part?"

"Prepared with a pen, huh?" he asked, smiling at me.

"I didn't want you to have a chance to change your mind," I said, teasing him.

Crane signed the forms, and handed them to me.

"Did Guthrie get the classes he wanted?" Crane asked me.

"I think so."

"Well, I think I'll go talk to him now. Make sure he's feeling good about things," he said, and got up.

7

And so, we started school three days after that. Guthrie drove us the first day, and we swung by Kristin's house to pick

her up. It made me feel sort of strange when we first started driving. Thinking about how it was Guthrie's last year

of high school, and how next year I'd be making this drive to school alone. I didn't like the thought of that. Not at all. The first day

was, predictably, not too difficult. Teachers letting students sort of settle into things. I'd only had Ford help me with practice Trigonometry

a little bit over the summer, but I was still in my 'high confidence' mode. I could handle all this, I told myself.

By the third day, the teachers were starting to pile on the work. I'd decided to join a club, too. It was an group of kids who

advertised, (or begged) for homes for stray animals in the area, and also fostered the animals themselves while searching for homes.

I'd known about it starting up the school year before, but with the diabetes and Doc G and everything, I just hadn't joined. I'd never

been much of a 'joiner' of clubs, but this was different.

On the third day, Guthrie and Kristin waited for me after school while we had a hurried first meeting. When I came out to join them

at the truck, I was full of enthusiasm. And, I also directed Guthrie to one of the other kid's houses. To pick up some kittens.

Melody, the other girl in the group, was only a freshman, but she was an avid animal lover. She'd rescued the kittens at the side of the

road, but already had two many cats at her house. At least that's what her mother said. Kristin and I cuddled and oohed and awed over

the kittens while Guthrie stood there shaking his head.

Driving towards Kristin's house, she said, "I wish I could have one."

"You can take one of them," I told her. "If you want."

As Kristin's eyes lit up, Guthrie added dryly, "Yeah. You'd better. It's gonna be enough bringing the other five to our house."

I waved a hand at Guthrie. "Shush," I told him.

Kristin took one. The smallest. I felt good about it. Once we reached home, I took the remaining five multi-colored kittens

to the barn, setting them up in one of the stalls, with clean hay and a old blanket. When I went inside to change out of my

school clothes, I told Hannah about the club, and the kittens, and took a half a jug of milk that was leftover from her baking, and

poured it into an old bowl. I was watching the kittens lap up the milk when Evan came into the barn.

"Evan, come look," I told him, and he came to peer over the side of the stall.

"Kittens, huh?" he said, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Aren't they cute?" I told him, handing the one that I was holding over closer to his face.

"Yeah. Real cute," he said.

"We should have had some cats around here long before now," I said, with sound certainty.

Evan chuckled a little. "Sounds as though you're practicing for a speech, to convince Brian."

"Brian won't care," I said stoutly.

"Brian won't care about what?" Brian said, appearing at the door of the barn, carrying a roll of wire.

7

By the end of the first week of school, I'd been accepted into the job program, and was due to start with it the beginning of the next week.

The kittens were settling into life at the McFadden ranch. All the dogs largely ignored them, except for Warrior, who sniffed around, and got

a scratched nose for his curiosity. Also on the Friday, our animal group had another quick meeting after school, and Terrence Howell, who'd

been the president of the club the year before as a senior, stopped by.

I remembered Terrence, though I'd never done much more than say hi to him in the hallways. He was an intense sort of boy, not mixing

much with girls, even though he was really nice looking, or sports. His passions were science, and animals. When he walked to the outside

tables after school to join our meeting, he was carrying something that you just don't see every day. I mean, it's not often that

you see a fellow walking around school grounds with a skunk draped over his arm.

7

I listened to Guthrie's opinions and dire predictions all the way home from school that day. All while I was holding a metal cage

on my lap. With the skunk inside. He did help me, though, once we got home. He took my books and backpack inside the house,

making sure the coast was clear so that I could install the skunk into one of the hutches beside the barn without being observed. The hutches were what

the boys had kept rabbits in years before. I was thinking that they weren't in too bad of condition, really. They could use a little fixing up.

Guthrie would help with that, I thought. Or Evan-

From the corner of my eye, I saw Hannah, at the clothesline, taking down some clothes. I made a super-quick decision.

I called out to Hannah.

"Hannah! Come see something!"

Hannah crossed the yard and began to walk over to the set-up of cages, her arms full of dried jeans. I reached into the cage and pulled the skunk out,

holding him the way that Terrence had shown me.

"Look," I said, turning to greet Hannah.

When she saw what I was holding, she immediately took a quick few steps back. "What in the world?" she began, looking horrified.

"He's descented," I hastened to assure her.

"Really?" she asked, sounding doubtful.

"Really. I promise."

"Well," she said, still standing where she was. "What in the world are you doing with a skunk?"

"He's from near Stockton. The older lady that he was living with got real sick and had to go to a nursing home. So he needs a

new home."

"So he's one of your rescue animals?" she asked, still looking startled.

"Yes. Terrence Howell has been fostering him, but he had to get to college to start his new classes."

"And so you volunteered to take him?" she asked, giving me the 'mom' eye.

"Well, nobody else was able to. I was all there was. Well, practically anyway."

"Uh huh," she said dryly.

"He's really nice," I said. "You can touch him if you want."

"That's alright. I'll just look at him from here."

She gave the skunk another scrutinizing glance. "I don't think this is a good idea, Harlie. Not at all."

"He's descented," I reminded her.

"But he might bite," Hannah said. "And he probably carries all sorts of diseases."

"He won't bite. He's used to human company. He likes being handled. Statistically, if a skunk is raised around people,

there's a ninety percent chance that he won't bite," I explained.

"A ninety percent chance," she echoed.

"Yep."

"Well, that leaves a ten percent chance that he might. And that's the percent that I'm worried about," she said.

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me. "You're funny," I told her.

"Well, thanks a lot," she said wryly. "But I'm serious. I don't think this is going to go over well with your brothers."

"But you don't care if he stays?" I asked, trying to pin her down. "I mean, foster him until they find a home for him?" I thought it would

surely help, if Hannah was on my side with all this.

"When would that ever be?" she asked, and now I could see her blue eyes sparkling with humor. "I mean, I just can't

see that a skunk is on the list of most-desired pets."

"Well, sure it is," I said, smiling back at her. "It's on the wish list of every high society lady in San Francisco."

As involved as we were in conversation, neither one of us heard anybody approaching, until Adam was completely up

to where we stood.

"What are you two girls up to?" he began, and then, when he caught sight of what I held, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded.

"He's from my rescue group," I said quickly. "He's descented. His person had to go into a nursing home, so he needs

to be fostered for a while."

"You can't be keepin' a skunk, Harlie," Adam said. "Hell, they bite."

"There's a ninety percent chance that he won't bite," Hannah said, patting him on the arm. I could tell she was having

a little bit of fun at my expense.

"Yeah?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. Statistics, you know," she said, and laughed a little. "Well, I'll leave you two to figure it all out."

As she was walking away, I said, "You could stay around for moral support, you know."

She laughed again without turning around, and walked on towards the house.

Left alone with Adam, I gave him what I hoped was a winning smile. "So what do you think?" I asked brightly.

"What I think is, you should have asked permission before you toted a skunk home."

I let my smile fall away. I rated the tone of his voice at about a level seven, or maybe an eight. He wasn't kidding.

"It happened sort of fast," I said.

"How did it happen exactly?" he asked, and I felt hopeful. At least he was letting me explain things.

"The lady he's lived with, I think it was for about five years, well, she got sick, and so she can't take care of him

anymore. Terrence has been fostering him for a few months now, but he has to leave soon to get back and get ready for

college," I said.

"Uh huh," Adam said, plainly waiting for more of an explanation.

"Well, there wasn't anybody else in the group willing to take him," I went on. "At least right now, anyway."

"So you jumped right in, huh?" he asked, dryly.

"Well, Maxie Schrader said she might be able to take him. But she had to go out of town for the weekend."

"So there is another option then," Adam said.

"Well, yeah. But not until sometime next week, after she gets stuff set up for him at her house. Tuesday or so."

There was a long silence, and I put the skunk back into his cage, latching the door.

"It's just until they find him a home," I said.

"It's just until Maxie Schrader takes him on," Adam amended.

I was quiet, looking at him, and he prompted, "Right?"

I nibbled at my bottom lip. "Well, that's if she takes him. I mean, she wasn't quite sure."

Adam sighed a big sigh, the kind that shows his vast irritation. "Harlie Marie," he said, in his warning voice.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, trying my best to sound respectful and sweet.

"This whole animal thing is gettin' way out of control," he said. "I mean, we went from one dog to four dogs, and then there's the

burro, and the cats. Now you start bringing home things not meant to be pets." He gave the skunk a long look. "A skunk."

I would have pointed out that Jethro Bodine wasn't my dog, but Guthrie's, but I decided that wouldn't be the wisest thing

at this point. I mean, Warrior was here because of me.

Still, I thought a little bit of sympathetic prodding wouldn't hurt.

"You like Fat Clarence, though, don't you?" I asked. "And the cats will learn to take care of the barn mice."

"Yes, I like him," Adam said, and now he sounded even more irritated. "And you know that. This isn't about Clarence. Or the cats." He studied

me intently, and then he said, sounding stern, "Don't be tryin' to work me, young lady. I don't like it."

I knew then that he'd seen thru my sympathy ploy, and I felt ashamed of myself, using Clarence as a prop.

"Sorry," I said quietly, and I was. Truly.

"What I'm doing is pointing out that there's enough animals around here now, without adding more. My main concern, though,

is that you're gonna get bitten," he said.

"He-" I began.

"I know. Ninety percent chance that he won't," Adam said, quoting me.

I subsided, just looking at him. And waiting.

"I want you to make sure that he goes with that girl the first of the week. Mandy?" he said.

"Maxie," I corrected.

"Maxie. You have her come over here after school and pick him up."

I bit at my lip again, and Adam noticed right away, because he said, "What, now?"

"She said she wanted to do it, but she doesn't know if her father will go for it," I told him. "Her exact words were, 'My daddy isn't

the most understanding of men'."

"Well, I'm not the most understanding of men, either," he said.

"I think you're pretty understanding," I told him. "Mostly, you are."

Adam was regarding me with a serious expression, and somewhat of a frown, and so I added, "And that's what I really think. Not

trying to work you."

We met eye to eye for a long few moments, and then he said, "Well, you ask her about it Monday at school. Alright?"

I nodded. "I will."

"And you wear gloves when you're tending to him," Adam said, nodding at the skunk. "Even to feed him."

"Okay," I agreed.

"And don't be holding it like you were, like he's some kind of a puppy or something," he added.

Now that was a hard thing to have to promise. I hesitated.

"He's used to being held, though," I began. "His person used to hold him a lot."

"Are you wanting to argue with me?" he asked. "Because if so, you can call Terrence, and tell him to come right now to

get the skunk."

I thought about revoking my previous comment about him being understanding at that point.

The thought of having to call Terrence, and tell him that I couldn't keep the skunk after all, when he'd been so

appreciative and all, well, I couldn't do that.

"Don't make me do that, Adam," I said. "Please."

"Then you mind me," he said firmly. So firmly that I knew that there was no talking him around.

"Alright," I said quietly.

7

McFadden followers:! Hope you like the beginning of the newest story!


	2. The sounds of a skunk

The next day was Saturday. After a full week at school, I was already ready for a fun break. Lori was having a slumber party

that night, sort of a beginning of school get-together. She'd invited most of the girls in our class, which only came to about twenty-seven

all together. She said her father had grumbled, and said he certainly hoped not all twenty-seven showed up.

Everyone was supposed to get there right after lunch on Saturday, and then leave by mid-morning on Sunday. My Saturday

morning was tied up with chores. Breakfast dishes, the goats, tending to the skunk, and helping clean the barn. One of the kittens had wandered off, and

I spent a good thirty minutes looking for it. I didn't want a coyote or anything else to get it. Once I found it, a good distance from the

barn, the morning was nearly gone.

As we were all heading into lunch, Evan and Brian were both talking about how they needed me to tag along and help fetch and

carry fencing supplies that afternoon.

I stopped walking to look at both of them. "I've got that thing at Lori's today," I said. When they both gave me a blank look,

I added, "A slumber party. Remember?"

I knew that they'd heard me talking about it a couple days before that, at the table when I'd first told Hannah about it.

"Ah," Brian said, with a nod. "I forgot about that."

"I'm supposed to be there right after lunch," I said.

"Alright. We'll manage without you," Brian told me.

"Should be easy enough," Evan said, and I gave him a playful shove.

"Make sure that skunk's taken care of before you leave," Brian warned me.

"I did. He'll be alright. Guthrie's gonna tend to him tonight," I said.

As soon as I'd eaten, I took a very quick shower, put on clean clothes, and threw some extra clothes into a bag. I went

downstairs to pack up my diabetes supplies, too. Hannah and Clare were sitting at the kitchen table, looking at garden and flower

supply magazines, while Isaac zoomed around in his baby walker.

Hannah turned in her chair, watching me as I put in the diabetes stuff.

"Have everything you need?" she asked.

"Yep."

"Take some snacks," she said.

When I started to object, she said, "I know there will be all sorts of things to eat at Lori's, but you should take some

snacks that are healthier, just so you don't have a blood sugar spike."

"Okay," I agreed, and rooted around in the cabinets for granola bars, and a couple of apples from the fruit bowl. I slipped those into

the bag, too. I said my goodbyes to Hannah and Clare, and headed out to my truck. I'd loaded my overnight bag when I heard

Adam calling to me, from the front of the barn. We met halfway across the yard.

"Taking off, huh?" he asked.

"Uh huh."

"You'll be home in the morning tomorrow, then?"

"Yes. Lori's dad wants all teenage girls gone from his house by nine-thirty or ten at the latest," I said, with a smile.

"Can't blame him for that," Adam said, giving a half-smile in return.

"I'm actually surprised he gave her permission to even have the party," I said.

"Well, have fun," he told me.

"Okay," I said, leaning in to give him a hug around his waist.

"Most everybody will be at church around the time you get home," he said, hugging me back. "So, we'll see you then."

"K. Bye," I said.

Adam watched until I'd backed the truck up, and started down the driveway.

7

I had a lot of fun at Lori's party. I stayed up way too late, and ate too much junk food. But it was fun. I was so tired Sunday

morning, just like all the girls were. But, we were up and out the door by 9:45, after Lori's mom had fixed a nice breakfast for

everybody.

I felt as though I could almost fall asleep as I was driving home. I saw several of the family's vehicles, parked at the

church as I drove by.

Once home, I checked on the skunk, putting on my gloves and petting him.

"I'll come back out in awhile, Pepe," I told him, calling him by the name that Terrence said the previous owner had given him.

I went inside, unpacking my bag, and ate a healthy snack, even though I wasn't hungry. I felt the beginnings of a junk-food

headache, and I didn't want it to get any worse.

The house was quiet. Everyone must have gone to church. I'd thought that Guthrie and Evan might be home, since their

trucks were still parked, but they must have ridden in with one of the others.

I thought of my laundry that needed doing, and the mountains of homework in my two tough classes that I should get

busy doing. But, I was tired. Late night girl gab-fests can wear a person out.

I laid down on the couch, cuddling with Fat Clarence, thinking that I'd only lay there for a bit, and then get up and

get busy. I fell asleep, though, and didn't wake up until an hour and a half later when I heard voices and sounds of vehicles

outside.

I was just sitting up as everybody began pouring inside, home from church.

"Hi, sweetie," Hannah greeted me.

"Hi," I said, feeling groggy.

"How was the slumber party?" Clare asked, pausing beside the couch.

"Good. Lots of fun."

"I used to love going to those," Clare said. "We'd have the best time."

"Any problems?" Hannah asked then, and I knew she was referring to my diabetes.

"No. Everything's good."

"Catchin' a nap?" Brian asked me, rubbing the top of my head.

Lunch became the focal goal then. A huge roast had been cooking in the crockpot, with vegetables, and the smell

of it was floating thru the air.

At lunch I asked Guthrie how the skunk had been the night before.

Guthrie gave a light shrug. "Okay, I guess. He didn't eat much."

"I saw that." I thought for a moment. "Maybe he's not feeling good."

I was intent on eating my lunch, and then going back out to spend some focused time with Pepe.

Before I could do that, though, Brian reminded me that I was supposed to be helping Guthrie roll up a bunch of wire that

had been flattened during one of the fence-destroying events during the summer. There were no cattle near the wire now,

but they wanted it all rolled up, so no one would hit it with a mower.

I calculated in my head how long I thought that project might take Guthrie and I. I gave a sigh, without

thinking about it.

"What's wrong?" Hannah asked me.

"I'm just wondering where the whole weekend went so fast," I grumbled.

Guthrie and I set out, riding to the spot with the wire strung out. Grass was growing up between the holes in the wire.

It took us a good two hours or more to roll it. I was still feeling tired, so I wasn't really much help. At one point, I was

more hindrance than help to Guthrie.

"Go sit down," he told me. "I'll finish up."

"That's not right," I said, but I was seriously tempted.

"We're almost done. Go," he said.

"You're the best," I told him.

Guthrie gave a snort, and I went to find a spot, half shade, and half sun. I laid down on the grass, letting the sun

soak into my legs, while my face was in the shady part.

I rolled over onto my side. And fell asleep.

Guthrie woke me up with a poke to my shoulder. "Come on. We need to get goin'."

I rolled over on my back, looking up at him. "Did I fall asleep?"

"Well, yeah. Over here snoring like a buzz saw."

"I do not snore, Guthrie."

"Humph."

"It's Sunday," I reminded him. "You're not supposed to lie on a Sunday."

"It's no lie. Come on."

We rode back towards home, letting the horses take their time.

We talked about things. The first week of school. How big a wedding that Evan and Nancy might have. How the burros

might be doing up in the canyon. Things like that.

When we dismounted, and were unsaddling our horses, Brian approached us.

"Took you two long enough," he said.

I gave Guthrie a look, knowing that it had taken so long because I hadn't really helped. And then, I'd taken another nap, besides, leaving it

for Guthrie to do.

Brian wouldn't have been happy about me sloughing off, if he'd known, but I knew Guthrie wouldn't let on.

"We didn't get in a hurry about it," was Guthrie easy response.

I rewarded Guthrie with a smile.

7

I went to the pen where the skunk was at. He was making a whining sound. I'd learned from Terrence that skunks can make all

sorts of sounds. They can chirp for attention. Grumble when upset. Squeal when angry. And sort of whine/whimper when

frightened.

It made me feel bad. I thought he must be very lonely. He was used to living inside a house, with people. Not in a cage. And even

though it wasn't cold or anything, it still must be a real shock to him.

I put on my gloves, reaching in and petting him. He was immediately receptive, behaving as though he wanted to come out of the

cage into my arms. I wanted to pick him up so badly. That's what he wanted, I knew. It's what he needed. But, if Adam or Brian

caught me at it-well, it wouldn't be good.

I began to close up the door, knowing I needed to get started on my homework. The skunk set up such a fuss. He began to chirp.

He wanted more attention. More people contact.

It was such a ruckus that it drew Crane and Evan over closer. They'd been repairing fence somewhere. I knew because they

were both pulling off their leather gloves, shoving them into their back pockets.

"Good Lord," Evan said, coming up to peer into the cage. "What a racket! What's the matter with him?"

"He's upset. He wants me to hold him," I explained.

"Have you done your homework?" Crane asked. He said it casually. In an off-hand type of way. But, I didn't want to get him

aggravated at me. Not when he'd let me be in the job program, and all.

"I'm going in to start on it now," I told him.

"Do you have a lot?" he asked.

There was no use to say that there wasn't a lot. "A good amount," I admitted.

"Then you'd better get started," he said mildly.

"I will. I just feel bad-he's so upset," I said, rubbing my gloved hand over the Pepe's head again.

"It's probably a shock to him alright," Crane said, sounding sympathetic.

"Are you going to be outside for awhile? Around the barn?" I asked, hopefully.

"For a while. Why?"

"Could you come over every once in awhile and pet him?" I asked.

"Harlie," Crane began, and then he stopped, and sighed. "I love you, kiddo, but I'm not going to babysit a skunk."

I looked at Evan, and he immediately held up a hand to me. "Don't look at me," he said.

7

I settled at the kitchen table, spreading out my Anatomy and Physiology homework. I was alone in the kitchen, unless

somebody came in for a drink refill or such. On Sunday afternoons, the family mostly tries to take it easy. When possible.

I was grumbling to myself. I found parts of this class interesting. But, there were lots of notes to go over. The two worksheets

that were homework seemed to require a lot of going back and forth to my notes.

By the time I was finished, Hannah was commandeering the kitchen to prepare supper. She asked me to help make

a salad, so I picked all my papers and books up so Clare could set the table.

I was chopping up stuff for the salad, and thinking about my trigonometry, when Brian came in the back door.

"That skunk's makin' a God-awful noise out there," he said, going to the sink to wash his hands.

"What sort of a noise?" I asked.

"What do you mean, what sort of a noise?" Brian returned, turning to give me a look that suggested that I was slightly

wacky.

"Is he chirping? Or squealing? Or whimpering?" I specified.

"I have no idea, peach," Brian said. "He could be singing a Christmas carol, for all I know."

"Funny," I muttered, as I continued with my tomato chopping.

7

As soon as I was done eating, I took my books and everything to sit at Crane's desk. Guthrie was lounged on the living

room floor, doing his own homework. I worked steadily for an hour, and then took my math homework over to Crane, where he sat

at the end of one couch, reading the Sunday paper. I perched on the arm of the couch beside him, as he laid the paper down,

and looked over my work.

He pointed out a couple of things that I hadn't done correctly, and then praised me, saying that I'd done well with it.

I put everything away in my backpack, feeling relieved. After I took a shower, and came back downstairs in my pajamas,

we all had popcorn. I planned to go to bed early, but I went outside in my bare feet one last time, to check on Pepe.

7


	3. Maxie's Miss

The next morning, as Guthrie and I were preparing to leave for school, Adam was seeing us out, as

was his usual custom.

"Today the start of your job with Ivy?" he asked.

"Wednesday," I told him. "I'll have to start driving myself most days then."

"Wooo who," Guthrie said, shoving books into his backpack. "I can control my own truck radio, for a

change."

I made a face at him, and we headed outside to the porch, as Adam followed, cup of coffee in hand.

"Have a good day, both of you," he said, as he always did.

"How good a day can it be?" Guthrie returned, as was also what he always said. "It's school."

He and Adam had the same back and forth comments nearly every single morning of the school year.

I was at the bottom of the front steps when Adam said, "Harlie."

I paused, looking back at him.

"Talk to your friend today. About taking the skunk," he reminded me.

I shifted my backpack more evenly over my shoulder. I already had a niggling feeling that Maxie

wasn't going to give the answer that Adam was hoping for. But, I said, "Okay, I will."

"Have a good day," he said, again.

"You, too."

Once at school, Guthrie parked, and we got out. As he started inside, he looked back at me.

"Are you comin'?" he asked me.

"I'm gonna wait to talk to Maxie," I told him.

"Okay. See ya later."

I told Guthrie goodbye, and kept my eyes out for Maxie to arrive. It wouldn't be difficult to spot her.

She drives a grass-green car, that she got for her birthday.

When she came, finally, the first bell had already rung. I knew I should have gone on inside, but

waiting it out, I sighed with relief when she came driving up, taking one of the last parking spaces.

"I'm late again!" she groaned. "I've already gotten two tardies in the first week of school!"

"You can make it," I said. As we walked swiftly towards the school building, I said, "Did you talk to

your parents about taking Pepe?"

Maxie gave me a regretful glance. "My dad said I can't take him. He says with us living in town like

we do, that our neighbors would raise a fuss about him."

"Not if you kept him in the house," I said.

Maxie shook her head. "My granny is staying with us. She about came unglued when she heard me

talking about the skunk. My mom says we can't have granny upset."

"Oh," I said, my thoughts jumping all around for a solution.

By now we were up the steps and inside the school building. There were still a few students milling

about, but the majority of them were already installed in their first hour classrooms.

"Can't you keep him?" she asked me, stopping at her locker and twisting the combination lock. "I mean,

foster him until the group finds him a home?"

I was sorry to say that I was thinking that Hannah was likely correct about a skunk being hard to

place in a new home.

"I don't know-" I began.

"I'm really sorry, Harlie," she said, and as the late bell rang, she gave a wave and scurried off.

So, I was tardy to my first hour. My math class. But, the teacher, Mrs. Rhynerson, only gave me a

frowning nod, and didn't tell me I had to go get a tardy slip.

I was still carrying my entire backpack, since I hadn't had time to stop at my own locker to

unload stuff. I took out my homework assignment, and turned it in, and then tried to focus on

the instruction that Mrs. Rhynerson was giving on the next lesson.

I was hoping there wouldn't be homework, but no such luck. Answering the

collective group of groans throughout the room, Mrs. Rhynerson said, "You might as well

accept the fact that nearly every day there will be homework in this class. If you manage your

time correctly, most of you can get it finished in your study halls."

Ah, but not me. I only had two more days of study hall, and after that, I wouldn't be

at school during that time of the day any longer. I'd be working with Ivy.

Oh, well. I told myself that it would be worth it, even if it meant I had to do my homework

at home.

Throughout the day, I tried to concentrate on my classes, but I kept thinking about Pepe,

and what I was going to tell Adam.

7

At first I was hopeful that I might have a reprieve. When Guthrie and I got home from school,

Adam happened to be nearby, where he and Evan were working on the tractor.

He didn't mention the skunk then. He just asked about how Guthrie and I's day had gone, and

then told us what chores he wanted us to do.

After I'd changed into my old clothes, I went back out, going over to Pepe's cage. I refilled his water

and food dishes, and then I rubbed his head, and petted him. He made the sound that I knew meant he

was content. For the moment, anyway. When I had to close the cage door again, and get started on my chores,

Pepe let his unhappiness be known. Loudly.

I went to do my regular chores, and then rode the lawn mower to the pasture behind the barn, and

spent the next hour mowing the grass down there. It wasn't very tall, but there were so many ruts

and bumps that it made my teeth bump together.

When I'd finished, I drove the mower back into the shed. I shut it off, and then just sat there for

a few minutes, until my legs stopped tingling from all the bumping around. Well, that, and also

I was trying to think how to explain things about the skunk to Adam.

7

Conversations were active at the supper table, just as usual. I was midway thru my

pork chop and carrots, when Adam directed a question to me, from his end of the table.

"Did you talk to Mandy? About the skunk?" he asked me.

I hesitated. "Maxie," I said, prolonging the inevitable.

He nodded, acknowledging my correction of Maxie's name. And then he was clearly waiting

for me to go on.

"Yes. I talked to her," I said, and took a long drink of milk.

"And?" he prompted.

"I need to talk to you about it," I said.

Adam gave me a long look, and then he nodded again.

After everybody was done eating, Clare and Brian began clearing the table and getting ready to

do the dishes. I'd only just stood up, and scooted my chair in, when Adam spoke up.

"Harlie."

I looked over to him, and he motioned with his hand. "Let's talk."

I sighed, and watched as he walked on out of the kitchen. I stood there, my hands on top of my

chair, thinking.

"No luck with Maxie, hmm?" Hannah asked me, quietly.

"No."

"That's too bad," she said, sounding sympathetic.

"Yeah." I sighed. "Well, here goes nothing," I said, and followed the direction that Adam had gone.

He was standing on the front porch, talking to Evan. I stood at the screen door for

a couple of minutes, thinking they'd get done talking before I went out.

But, Adam saw me and said, "Come on out."

I went out, holding the door to let it close, so it would shut gently.

I shoved my hands in the back pockets of my jeans.

"So, what'd you find out then?" Adam asked, turning to me.

"Maxie's grandma's staying with their family right now."

"And?" he prompted.

There was no avoiding it further. "Her mother thinks it would upset the grandma. Having Pepe

there."

"Even in a cage outside?" he asked.

"Her dad thinks that the neighbors would complain. Seeing a skunk right next door."

"Her parents are full of opinions," Adam said tersely, and I saw Evan hide a grin.

I waited, watching Adam.

"Somebody else in your animal group, then?" he asked, but he sounded as if he already knew

the answer.

"There wasn't any of the other kids that could."

"Well," he said. "What's your plan, then?"

I didn't have a plan. And I figured that Adam knew it, too.

"I don't know," I said, and flicked a glance at Evan, hoping for help. "I don't really have a plan."

"Well, get one," Adam said, still sounding too curt for comfort. "Alright?"

I nodded, not sure what to tell him.

"How about an ad in the newspapers?" Evan suggested. "Not Murphys, maybe, but call in an ad to

a bigger paper. Like Stockton."

It was a good idea, and I gave Evan a grateful nod.

"That's good," Adam agreed. "Do that."

"Okay," I said.

"Alright," Adam said, and went back inside, the screen door flapping shut behind him.

That left me standing there on the porch with Evan.

"Thanks for trying to help," I told him.

"No problem."

I sighed again, and started down the front steps. "I'm gonna go sit with him for awhile."

I petted and talked to Pepe for awhile, while he made a sad noise. I had a sudden inspiration. A light bulb of an idea. I put Pepe back into his

cage, and yanked off my gloves. I'd just been using a pair of leather ones, the sort my brothers wear when they're doing fencing.

I ran to the small shop, where the welder is set up, and searched on the shelves in there, until I found what I was searching for.

When I came out, I was carrying a pair of welding gloves, the ones that go all the way up your arms. I pulled them on, and

went back over to the cage. I reached in and pulled Pepe over, and then completely out of the cage. I held him, mostly where

the gloves covered me, but I did press him against my chest, too. It was as if I could sense an immediate change in the skunk. He

was nearly snuggling with me.

I was disobeying what Adam had said. About how I wasn't supposed to really hold him. But, I just couldn't not do it anymore.

I sat down on the ground, against the side of the barn, holding Pepe, and stroking his fur. I told myself that it wasn't so

much disobedience on my part. After all, I was still wearing gloves, like he'd said. And, these gloves, the welding ones, they

covered me nearly to my shoulder, after all.

I put him away a little while later. I hated to, but I had homework to finish. I left the welding gloves laying on top of the

hutch, and walked towards the house, hearing Pepe make his displeasure known.

I cast a glance towards the pasture, and saw my burro there. Sometimes he was there, and sometimes he wasn't. I went

to fetch an apple, and then walked out with it. Petra thought I had a treat for her, and came, bumping my shoulder with

her head.

I fed the apple to the burro, studying him. He wasn't as thin as he'd been. He was getting plenty to eat. He'd gotten

tame enough that sometimes he would consent to letting me brush him. But, only sometimes.

There was a whistle from the house, and I looked up.

Brian was waving at me from the porch. "Time to come in!" he hollered.

I gave the burro a final pat, and went to the corral, climbing over, and dropping to the other side.

When I walked up to the porch, Brian was still standing there.

"It's almost seven. You have homework?" he asked.

"Yeah. I was coming along. The burro wanted an apple."

"He's gettin' fat," Brian said.

I climbed the stairs and paused beside him. "I'm still trying to think of a good name for him."

"I can think of a few choice names for him," Brian said, but I could tell he was teasing me.

"That's okay. I'll choose his name," I said, teasing back.

Brian laughed, and I gave him a speculative look. He seemed to be in a really good mood.

"I'm gonna put an ad in the newspaper, I guess," I began. "About Pepe."

"That's a good idea."

"He's so sad," I said. "He's used to lots more human contact than what he's getting now."

"Well, hopefully the ad will help find him a good home," Brian said.

I paused beside the door, my hand on the handle. "Adam thinks he might be aggressive, and bite. But, I know he wouldn't."

"You don't know for certain that he won't," Brian countered, and I felt disappointed. If I'd thought he might back me up with

Adam, I'd been wrong.

I finished my homework, and then I when I'd had my shower, I sat down, cross-legged on my bed, to write up

the newspaper ad. I wrote it up okay, no real problem, but I felt like I needed a second opinion.

I went out in the hallway, intent on going downstairs, but there, scuffling around in the hallway, were Guthrie and

Evan.

"Hey, guys, listen to this," I told them, and read off the ad.

'Free to good home. Descented male skunk, used to

human contact; sweet and friendly.'

After that, I'd put our phone number.

The boys had stopped wrestling around, and stood still to listen to me read.

"It's sort of dull," I said. "What else can I add to it?"

"How about 'great Halloween prank'?" Guthrie suggested. "'Put skunk in teacher's house and then enjoy the show'."

"That's not helpful, Guthrie," I said.

Guthrie laughed. "I thought it was good."

"It sounds okay," Evan said. "Basic. To the point. I mean, there's not a lot you can say about him, really."

"I guess," I said, looking down at the paper.

"If you do still have him by Halloween, we can have some real fun," Guthrie said. "I can think of a couple of girls

at school that I'd like to prank. We could put him in their cars."

"You can't use him to play a prank on people," I said.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Guthrie said.

"Jerk," I accused, without any real heat. I went downstairs, and gave the ad to Hannah. She'd be the one calling into

the newspaper with it.

"Alright, sweetie," she said. "I'll do it in the morning. Put it on the refrigerator so I don't forget."

"Okay," I said, and went to do that, arranging it so that it was in the most prominent center part of the

refrigerator door.

When I went back into the living room, Crane was just getting home. I realized that it was the second or third time

within a week that he'd been out at night. I wondered if things were getting much more serious between him and Cindy.

7

The next night Nancy came over after work, to eat supper with all of us. After that, the conversation around the

table turned to wedding stuff.

Evan and Nancy said they were thinking of getting married in October or November. When they said that, there was

a collective hush for a few moments, and I knew everybody was thinking of all that would need to be done. Even if they were

saying that they wanted a small wedding.

"Do you want to be married here?" Hannah asked them. "We could have it here, in the living room, if we cleared everything out."

I could see that Hannah's mind was already racing with ideas.

Clare chimed in to add that flowers could be put here, and there.

"That's a lot of work for all of you," Nancy said, looking at Evan. "We could be married at the church-"

"If you want to have it here, it's fine," Hannah said, with enthusiasm.

"They did an amazing job with Brian and I's wedding here," Clare was telling Nancy.

"Well," Nancy said, looking conflicted. "What do you think, Evan?"

"I'd like to have it here," Evan said.

"We'll polish the floors and the walls," Hannah said.

After that, they talked about flowers, and colors, and all of that. I, meanwhile, thought that I was thinking of the

most important thing about it all. Which was, where would they live? I mean, we were running short on bedrooms, although with

Daniel and Ford gone most of the time, I supposed that Evan and Nancy could have Evan's room for themselves. Ford could sleep in Crane's

room when he was home from college on weekends. Guthrie, if need be, could have a makeshift room in the basement. I

didn't think that he'd mind that too much.

And eventually, that did come around to the conversation. Nancy said that her dad had said they could live in the house

in town. He planned to leave the state for a few months after the wedding to do some traveling with his brother. Nancy's brother,

meanwhile, had graduated the previous spring from high school. He was still living at home at the time, but was going to

be leaving for vocational school soon.

"Then, when my dad comes back from his traveling, he would be at the house with us," Nancy said.

Nobody expressed any protests at the plan, or any negative feedback. I, myself, had mixed feelings, though, and I

figured I wasn't the only one.

Nancy's house is at the edge of Murphys, and so it's not far to get there from our house. It wasn't that. I just thought it

would seem strange, not having Evan around at night. Or in the mornings.

This was all part of that 'life changing' stuff that I didn't particularly care for. I mean, it had taken awhile to get accustomed to

Daniel being gone, and I still didn't like that much. And, not having Ford in close proximity wasn't so great, either. I

guess if I had brothers that I hated, or that treated me horribly, then I might want them to move out. But, now, with Evan,

I thought how weird it would seem for him to be sleeping somewhere else. Every single night. It wasn't that I didn't love Nancy,

or look forward to her being a part of our family. I wanted that, and I did love her. But, again, I'm not so good at

life changes.

7


	4. Requests

I was so excited the next morning that I could hardly eat my breakfast. It was Wednesday. Not a fact which would ordinarily signify

anything spectacular. But, it was the Wednesday that I started my job with Ivy!

Hannah was telling me to take some peanut butter crackers or something to eat on my way back to Murphys when I

left school.

"I'll just have eaten lunch an hour or so before that," I reminded her.

"It's still a good habit to get into," Hannah insisted. "Having healthy snacks with you."

I gave in, because it was just easier.

Adam did his morning walk-out with Guthrie and I, and then stood talking to me, as Guthrie went back inside for something

he'd forgotten.

"Exciting, huh?" Adam asked me.

"Yeah. I guess I'm a little nervous," I admitted.

"You'll do fine," he said, in encouragement. He looked thoughtful, and then added, "Are you prepared? To go into the office? You

haven't been in there, have you, since before?"

He wasn't saying, 'since Doc G died', but I knew what he meant.

"No. I haven't. I think it will be okay, though."

"I know it will be. Just remember, when you first go in, that he'd be proud to have you there, helping Ivy. It might make

it easier."

Good advice. I nodded. "Okay."

Guthrie came tearing out, and down the steps. "See ya, Adam," he said.

"Have a good day, Guth," Adam told him.

After Guthrie had started his truck, and waved breezily, heading down the driveway, Adam smiled at me.

"You have a good day, too. I'll want to hear all about it, when you get home."

I nodded, giving him a hug.

7

I followed Adam's advice later. When I got to the vet office, I paused outside, and then opened the wooden door. It still stuck

a bit, as it opened, just like it always had. The bell over the door jingled. The office was empty, though I could hear Ivy's voice,

and someone else's, in the back. I walked over to the desk, touching the familiar things. I felt my throat sort of tighten, and

felt my emotions rise to the top. And then, I could have sworn that I smelled peppermint. The smell of it was so real, so pungent,

that I had to catch my breath. That was the smell that I most associated with Doc G. He was always known to have peppermint

hard candies in his shirt pocket. It was one of those weird things that happen, the sort that you know can't possibly be true. After all,

the smell of peppermints wouldn't still be clinging to the office that way. Not after all this time. Not after more than eight months.

But, I smelled peppermint. I did. I smiled a little. And, then, I went on thru to the back of the office, to see

what Ivy wanted me to do first.

7

Ivy kept me busy. Even on the first day. I helped her tend to a horse that had been brought in, with a cut to its leg. I

cleaned out the stalls in the small stable. I swept up. It was time to go home before I knew it.

"Four o'clock already," Ivy told me, as we worked together, rolling up a water hose.

"It went fast."

"You probably have homework, right? You should get going."

"I have homework. But, I can stay awhile longer, if you need me to," I offered.

"I'm tempted to let you," she said, and smiled at me. "But, four o'clock is when the program is actually over every day. I

won't keep you over that time, unless there was an emergency or something. I don't want to get on Crane's bad side, by doing that."

I smiled back. "You won't get on his bad side."

"Does he even have a bad side?" she asked, as we walked into the back entrance of the building. "It doesn't seem as though he does."

"He doesn't, really," I said. "He's even-keeled. And patient."

"Nice guys like him are few and far between," Ivy said.

I agreed, and after we said goodbye, and she'd sent me off, telling me she'd see me the next day, I started driving home.

I wondered if Ivy had a boyfriend. I didn't think she did, at least not here in Murphys. If she did, with it being a small town

and all, everybody would know. Maybe she had a boyfriend elsewhere. A long-distance boyfriend. She was so nice, and so, so

pretty, that I couldn't imagine her not having guys interested. Although, maybe she was more of a career type of woman.

There'd been something in her voice, though, when she'd said that part about nice guys like Crane being hard to find.

7

I was full of enthusiasm, talking during supper, about how it had gone the first day with Ivy. Everybody was asking

questions, and seemed interested. Crane, for the first time in days, was home for supper.

I didn't have dish washing duty, thank goodness. I had a mass of homework, and I knew it was going to take me

at least two hours to do it all.

I spread my work out over the kitchen table to do, and did the easiest stuff first. Studying for a phycology quiz the next day. I pushed

thru my math homework, and set it aside.

After that, I was struggling thru definitions and terms in Anatomy.

I was so engrossed in it all that I didn't hear anyone behind me, until I felt a hand run across my hair. Crane.

"Hey."

"Hi," I said, sitting up straighter and stretching.

"Doing alright?"

"Yeah."

Crane went to the refrigerator and got out the tea pitcher, taking it over and pouring himself a glass.

He came back over, and sat down in the chair that Hannah always sits at, right next to me.

"Need any help with your math?" he asked me.

I reached out and handed him the worksheet I'd finished. "It's done, but can you check it?"

Crane took a few minutes after that, to go over several things that I'd gotten wrong. I felt myself getting

frustrated. But, I tried not to show it.

Intuitive. That's Crane.

"You're doing fine," he said, calmly. "No need to get all uptight about it."

"How do you always know what I'm thinking?" I asked, and started working to correct the ones he'd showed me.

It wasn't long and then I was closing the books, with a relieved sigh. "Another day of homework done."

He took a drink of his tea, and I studied him. "How's Cindy?" I asked him.

"She's fine. Good."

"You really like her, don't you?" I asked.

"Yes. I like her."

"You've been spending lots more time with her," I said.

Crane gave me a sort of 'raised eyebrow' look at that comment.

"I'm not being nosy, or anything," I told him. "It's just this is your first night home for supper in days. So, I was just

figuring that you and she were getting closer."

"Uh huh," he said dryly.

I smiled at him. "Which I think is fine. You and her, I mean. She's nice."

"She is nice. And, I'm happy as heck that you think it's all fine," he said, again with that eyebrow look. "But, I haven't

been with her every night. Not that it's any of your business, but I haven't been."

"Oh," I said, looking at him curiously. Wondering where he had been, then.

"Oh," he echoed me, mockingly, reaching out to tap my nose with his finger. He got up, and went to put his empty

glass in the sink.

7

The next two days were like Wednesday. School, and then work with Ivy. Then home to chores, and homework. And

supper. And bed.

On Thursday, it was just after lunch when I saw Bill coming toward my table, where I'd been outside sitting with some

other girls, and was just standing up. I hadn't seen or talked to Bill since the day he'd come over with his father, to load up our cattle for auction.

He'd called those few times, and I'd always missed his calls. And, then, he'd just stopped calling.

"Hi, Harlie," he greeted me.

"Hi," I said, dumping my trash into the trash can.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Yes, I guess so," I told him, looking up at him expectantly, as Lori and Chelsea waved and went on inside the school.

"I'm real sorry about not calling you-" he began.

"It's okay," I said, feeling embarrassed.

"I wanted to. I really did. But-well, some stuff happened with my sister, and things got crazy around my house

for the rest of the summer."

"Oh. Well, it's alright," I said. I felt better, knowing that he hadn't stopped calling because of anything that I'd done. Or anything

that any of my brothers might have said to him on the telephone.

"Yeah," he said, and then we sort of stood there, looking at one another in silence.

"I'd tell you about it-my sister, I mean, but I don't want to do it here," he said.

"Oh. Okay."

I was trying to remember which one of the new students might be his sister. "Is she the one with really dark hair?" I asked.

"Yeah. Felicity."

"That's a pretty name," I said, wondering what to say next.

"Yeah."

"Well," I said, as the conversation still lagged, "I better get inside to class."

"Yeah. Can I call you? Maybe we could go out to a movie?"

"Okay."

"Well, how about Saturday?" he asked me.

I tried to think quickly. "I probably can," I told him. "Call me tonight and I'll let you know for sure."

7

We were in the midst of eating supper, when the phone began ringing.

Adam got to his feet, saying that it might be one of the other men from the Cattlemen's Association, calling to talk

about the next meeting. He was gone only a few minutes, and then came back to the kitchen, saying, "It's for you, sugar."

"Okay," I said, scooting my chair back.

"It's Bill," Adam said, looking amused.

"Who's Bill?" Brian demanded, just as Evan said, "Oooo, Bill!"

"The boy whose father picked up the cattle," Clare said, trying to hush Brian.

"Oh, that kid."

I walked past them all, going into the living room and picking up the telephone receiver.

After I'd answered, and Bill and I had talked for a few minutes, he asked me again about going to a movie on Saturday.

I told him I would, and we set up a time for him to pick me up. When I went back to the supper table and sat in my chair

again, I fielded the questions that greeted me, avoiding for the most part.

After I'd done my homework, and started upstairs to take my shower, I paused at the bottom, and took a few steps

back.

"I have a date on Saturday," I announced to the room in general.

"With Bill?" Hannah asked.

When I said yes, Brian asked me what we were going to do.

"Go to the movies."

"Why don't you go to Butch's or something?" Brian countered. "Instead of going over to Angels Camp to the movies?"

"Because he didn't ask me to go to Butch's. He asked me to go to the movies," I said,

"You don't need to get sassy," Brian said, giving me a frown.

"I didn't mean it that way," I said, trying to explain. "I just meant-well, it's just the movies, Brian."

Brian didn't say anything right then, but Clare, ever the peacekeeper, said, "It sounds like fun."

I looked from Clare to Hannah, and then to Adam, avoiding Brian for the time being.

"What time Saturday?" Hannah asked me.

"Bill thought we'd go to an afternoon movie. His dad needs him around in the evening."

Hannah nodded in response, and I said, looking at Adam, "Is it alright?"

"We don't really know this kid," Adam said. "So to the movies and then home, alright?"

"Yes," I said, in agreement. I looked to Brian, feeling my stomach knot up.

"Bri? Do you care if I go?"

For a long few moments, I thought Brian wasn't going to answer me at all.

Then he said, sort of gruffly, "Like Adam says, best to do the movies and then back home. First date with him, and all."

"Yes. Okay."

Brian nodded, and looked away. I went on upstairs to take my shower then, and fell asleep with the light still on in

my room.

7

There was still a lot of talk about Kenny going on, at school. Sometimes I just wished all the kids would stop talking

about it. I knew it bothered Guthrie, and Trent, and some of the other guys who stood loyal to Kenny.

I was eating lunch at an outside table on Friday with Lori and Kristin, when I saw Steven walking past, his arms full

of books. I watched him, trying not to be obvious about it. During the first two weeks of school, I'd managed to

not have any contact with Steven. I'd gotten fortunate enough to not have any classes with him. I hadn't talked

to him since the night he'd called to apologize for attacking me. I'd only had to pass him occasionally in the

hallways at school, and had always looked away.

Now, for the first time, he seemed to see me. Our eyes met, just very briefly. He looked uncomfortable. Embarrassed.

And then he walked on.

Kristin and Lori both knew what had happened with him, and were sympathetic. I tried to shrug it off. But, I couldn't help

feeling sort of weird about it.

7

The hour right after lunch there was an meeting in the gymnasium, for sophomores thru seniors. It was concerning the college credit

classes offered to high schoolers. I listened, and couldn't help thinking about it. It would be so good if I got another three hours of

credit under my belt. I had a long road ahead to get to veterinary school. Every little bit would help.

I could, I thought, handle a history class. I was good at that. It would be like the English class I'd done last year. Easy.

I took the forms necessary, and tucked them into my backpack, and headed out to work with Ivy.

That afternoon, when I got home, I was tired. It had been a busy week. I went up to where Crane and Adam were sitting

on a hay bale beside the corral, talking.

"Hey, peanut," Crane greeted me. "How was work?"

"Good. I got to help Ivy stitch up Junie Kinder's poodle."

"What happened?" Crane asked.

"He got caught in some wire from the garden. It was interesting. I mean, I didn't get to actually do the stitches, or

anything, but Ivy says I was a lot of help."

"I'll bet you were," Adam said, smiling at me.

I opened my backpack and pulled out the paperwork about the college history class. I held it out.

"What's this?" Adam asked, taking it from me.

"The college counselor came today to talk about the night classes," I said.

Adam was looking over the form, while Crane was looking at me.

"We've already talked about this, haven't we?" Crane asked me.

I thought back to the conversations that he and I had had over the summer. Vaguely, I remembered him saying that I could

choose between the job program, or taking a night class. Not do both.

"Did we?" I asked breezily.

"You know we did."

"It's the history one that I was thinking of," I said, as Adam handed the papers off to Crane. Crane barely glanced at them,

before looking back up at me.

"What's your point?" Crane asked.

"History's easy for me. I could manage it."

Crane held the papers back out to me. "No, Harlie."

I took the papers from him, feeling frustrated. "Can't we talk about it, at least?"

"We did talk about it. You said the job program was what you wanted to do."

"It was. It is," I tried to explain. "But, this is history, Crane! I can do it!"

"You've got enough. Your regular classes, and the job. Keeping your grades where they're supposed to

be at, to stay in it. That's enough."

"I agree," Adam said.

I gave them both a look. And then, feeling disgruntled, I stuffed the papers back into my backpack. I sighed, and then slung

it over my shoulder, and turned around to walk to the house. I was irritated, and I knew if I stayed there then, I would

say something that I probably shouldn't. I would, I thought, back off for a bit, and maybe I could talk to Crane again.

I went to the kitchen, and slung my backpack down on the kitchen table, while stuff slid out of

the unzipped top. Clare was sitting at one end, books from her own class spread out in front of her.

"Hey, toots," she greeted me, looking up.

"Hey." I went to the cabinet and took down a glass, filling it with water and drinking it all down.

"How are things?"

"Okay." I went to the refrigerator and got out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring some into my empty water glass.

Clare reached out and picked up the papers and books that had slid out of my backpack.

"You have a bunch of homework for the weekend?" she asked me then.

"Yeah. Not too much math, but a bunch of Anatomy."

"What's this?" Clare asked, picking up the now-crumpled night class paper, to look at it.

"It's the night class stuff," I told her. "Thru the college."

"Oh," Clare said, reading over it. "Like the one you did last year?"

"Uh huh," I said, pausing beside her chair, and taking a long drink of lemonade.

"Are you thinking about doing this, too?" Clare asked, looking somewhat impressed.

"I was thinking about it," I specified, stressing the word 'was'.

"But, now you're not?" she asked, looking at me.

"Crane said no," I said, unable to keep the frustration out of my voice.

"Oh." Clare laid the paper aside.

"You'd think, wouldn't you, that they'd be happy to have a teenager who wants to do things like take extra

classes to get ahead? But, nope."

Clare gave me look of an indulgent older sister. Both supportive of my feelings, but unwilling to tell me that

I was totally in the right on the issue.

"You are doing an awfully lot already," she said mildly.

"I know."

"I think Crane's probably just concerned," she went on.

I sighed. "I know."

"Maybe next semester?" Clare suggested. "You could bring it up again then."

That was actually a really sound idea. I nodded. None of this was Clare's fault, after all. And, at least she had an

actual, productive suggestion. She didn't lecture.

I leaned over and gave her an impulsive hug. "I'm glad you're here," I told her. "I mean, here with the family, not

just here, in the kitchen-"

"I knew what you meant," she said, smiling at me. "I'm glad I'm here, too."

7


	5. Final answer

By the time we'd had supper, and Guthrie and I had done the dishes, I was so sleepy that I just wanted to go to bed

and read to fall asleep.

Guthrie, meanwhile, was talking about meeting up with Trent and Lonnie to play a game of pool.

"What's Kristin doing tonight?" I asked him.

"Goin' somewhere with her mom."

"Oh."

"Can you believe her mom wants her to go visit Frank at the jail?" Guthrie asked, sounding disgusted.

Now, that did surprise me. I paused, my hands in the dishwater, to look at Guthrie.

"She didn't tell me that!" I said.

"Yeah. She's pretty upset about it. Maybe she didn't want to talk about it in front of Lori or the other girls. She told me

when I was takin' her home today."

"Poor Kristin," I said, beginning to wash another plate.

Adam came into the kitchen, sorting thru the junk drawer.

"Have either of you seen a screwdriver? The one with the black handle?" he asked us.

"No."

"Nope," Guthrie said.

"Well, darn it," Adam said, closing the drawer again. "I wonder where it got to."

"Hey, Adam," Guthrie began, "Is it alright if I go in town to play some pool with Trent at Butch's?"

Adam paused, giving Guthrie his attention. "Yeah, it's alright. Home by curfew. No drinking."

"Got it," Guthrie said.

When Adam had left the room again, I grumbled to Guthrie about how Crane had shot down my idea of taking another

class.

"And Adam went along with it," I finished.

"I think you're crazy," Guthrie said. "You're gonna get so tied up with stuff that you're not gonna have time for any fun."

I began trying to explain to Guthrie how I felt about it, when Adam came back into the room, followed by Hannah.

"I'm sure I saw it out on the mud porch," she was saying.

Ah. The search for the screwdriver was still on.

7

I made some popcorn, and went upstairs after that. I laid on my bed, propped up by pillows, and began to read my newest

book. I knew I should use my time more wisely, and get started on homework. But, I felt like doing something just 'enjoyable'

right then. I was tossing popcorn in my mouth, and turning a page, when I heard something slide under my closed door.

I looked over, and saw a bright red Twizzler lying there. Ah. There's one person in our family who loves red Twizzlers.

I bounced up, and pulled my door open, wrapping myself around Ford like a monkey.

"I didn't know you were coming!" I said, squeezing him hard.

"I just decided this afternoon to come."

It had been two and a half weeks since I'd seen Ford, and in all that time, I hadn't really gotten to talk to him on the phone, either.

"Come in, and hang out with me!" I said, pulling on his arm.

"Hold on. I'm hungry. Let me get somethin' to eat first."

"I'll come with you," I said, and then, going down the stairs, I hopped onto his back, making him carry

me piggy-back to the kitchen.

The kitchen was the gathering place. Hannah was already there, at the stove.

"Grilled cheese, Ford?" she asked him, and he grinned.

"Yes, ma'm."

"Two? Or three?" she asked then.

"Three."

"Three it is," Hannah said.

Adam was talking to Ford about his classes, and Brian was asking if he'd met any cute new girls.

I'd hopped down from Ford's back, but I stuck close to him, sitting behind him on the counter, while he

leaned against it, eating his sandwiches.

"How's the job thing?" he asked me, just as Crane came into the kitchen. Returning, yet again, from wherever

he went to most evenings, I guessed.

"Hey, Ford!" Crane said, and Ford handed off his plate to me to hold, while he met Crane across the kitchen, and

they gave each other a hug.

After that, Crane caught up on what had already been asked of Ford, about classes and all that.

Brian got out the ice cream from the freezer, and began dishing up bowls of it.

Ford took his plate back from me and took another bite of his grilled cheese. "So," he said, returning to

his question to me again, "How's the job going, with Ivy? You liking it?"

"I love it."

"She helped stitch up a poodle today, Ford," Adam said.

"No kidding?" Ford asked, looking at me.

I nodded.

"Yeah. We'd all better watch out," Crane said. "She's likely to want to practice her stitching up on all you boys."

The conversations continued, gathered around the kitchen table. And the eating continued, as well. I'd eaten a small

bowl of ice cream, but I passed when Hannah got out a pie. I knew I wasn't likely to get any time alone with Ford. Not

tonight, anyway.

I got up, going to put my bowl in the sink. "Night, everybody," I said, in a general way.

There was a round of returned good nights to me.

I gave Ford another squeeze, and he said, "We can hang out tomorrow. Alright?"

"Yeah. Okay."

I was back upstairs, brushing my teeth, when I felt first, rather than saw, someone come up to

lean into the doorway. I'm fairly adept at knowing my brother's footsteps, or their cologne, or anything like that.

Also, the fact that this particular approaching brother was silent. Just leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, his

arms crossed, when I turned to look at him.

"You do your shot?" he asked me.

I hadn't. I hadn't forgotten, exactly. Well, I would have remembered after I'd gotten into bed. But, I wasn't going to

admit any of that.

"I'm going to do it. I wanted to brush my teeth first," I said, but I knew I wasn't fooling Crane.

"You seem pretty tired," he observed.

I was tired. I was beat. But, I wasn't going to admit that, either.

"I'm okay."

I spit out the rest of my toothpaste into the sink, and then filled a Dixie cup with water.

"Okay," he said, uncrossing his arms, and pushing off from the door frame. "Well, goodnight, peanut."

He'd taken a couple of steps down the hallway, towards his own bedroom, when I spit out the water in my mouth, and

leaned out the bathroom doorway.

"Crane?"

He paused, turning to look back at me. Waiting.

"Will you think about the history class? Before you give me your final answer?" I asked.

Crane looked surprised for just a moment or so, and then his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

He walked back the few steps towards me.

"I gave you my final answer, Harlie," he said.

"Well-" I began.

"My answer was No," he said. He was giving me a really intent look, and I took a half a step back.

"I thought you'd be proud of me," I said, feeling frustrated again. "For wanting to do it."

"I am proud of you."

"Then why are you saying no?"

"You know why," he said, and now he sounded vastly irritated.

When I didn't say anything, he said, "Don't you?" in a tone that suggested that I did indeed know why he was saying No.

"I'm doing well, though," I protested, instead of answering him. "I'm keeping up on my homework-and the job with Ivy is going

good. I even got a B-plus on the Anatomy quiz yesterday!"

"And, that's great. Fantastic. This is only the second week of school, though. Things are going to get a lot more involved,

and a lot tougher. I want you to keep being on this winning streak you're on. Heaping on yet another big time commitment, like

that class, wouldn't be the wise thing."

He sounded set. Intractable. Mind made up, and all of that.

I sighed, wondering how it was that I felt as if I'd gone a round with Mike Tyson in the ring. Crane hadn't raised his

voice. Not even once. Yet I felt weary. I think it was all in the way he had his tone down to a science. No yelling. But, no

bending, either. And his expression. Intent. Firm.

"Are we clear now?" he asked me.

I nodded. There was no use to arguing further. No point to saying anything more. I wasn't going to win.

"Okay," he said quietly.

I should have remembered that part about not saying anything more. Unfortunately, I didn't.

7

The next morning, I was in a sound sleep. For the first time in a week, I hadn't had to get up at the crack of

dawn. I heard laughter from the hallway and that's what did wake me up.

"Darn boys," I muttered to myself, and turned over on my stomach, covering my head with my pillow.

It wasn't long, though, and I gave up trying to go back to sleep again. I went out into the hallway, and to

the bathroom, running smack into Evan when I came out.

"Hey," he said, and then grinned at me. "You need a currycomb," he told me, referring, I knew, to my curls, which

were sprawling everywhere.

"You need a muzzle," I returned, giving him a half-hearted shove.

"Hey," he said, as I headed back towards my bedroom.

"What?" I asked, without stopping.

"I've got an idea that I wanna run past you, later."

I turned to look at him. "What's the idea?"

"Later, I said."

I waved a dismissing hand at him, and went back to my room, closing the door. I got dressed, pulling on ragged jean shorts,

and a Hank Williams, Jr. t-shirt. I took my socks and boots and headed downstairs.

The kitchen table was still crowded, though there were a couple of chairs already empty.

"Morning, sweetie," Hannah told me.

"Morning." I dropped my boots by the back door, and went to slide into my chair at the table.

"Clare and I are talking about throwing a bridal shower for Nancy," Hannah told me, pushing the platter of eggs

over closer to me. "Marie said she wanted to help, too, and a friend of Nancy's. Kelly?" Hannah looked at me questioningly. "Do you

know her?"

I nodded, scooping eggs onto my plate. "Kelly Gillam," I said.

"Oh. Well, she said she would help, too. How about you?"

"Sure. If there's anything left for me to do," I said, giving Hannah a good-natured smile.

"There'll be plenty to do. We'll have it here," Hannah said, and went on talking.

"Where's Ford?" I asked, in a general way, when Hannah stopped to take a breath.

"Outside, helping with something, I think."

I went out after breakfast, in search of Ford, but got sidetracked by Pepe's whimpering. I went to the hutch, and put on my

gloves, and sat holding him. While I was sitting there, I noticed how bad the hutch really looked. It needed fixing up, certainly. I didn't know how long I was going to have Pepe, but if it was much longer, I needed to figure out something way better for him.

I put him back in the cage, and went in search of a hammer and nails.

"What are lookin' for?" Evan demanded, coming up behind me, in the barn.

"Some nails."

"Nails, huh?" he asked, looking amused. "The last time you looked for nails like that, you wanted to tear up somebody's

tires."

"It's nothing like that. Pepe's cage needs fixed up."

"Oh."

"Will you help me?" I asked, turning to look at him. "Please?"

"I guess," he said, reaching above my head to a higher shelf and pulling down a hammer. He began to walk towards the

hutch, and I followed him, carrying a small bucket of nails.

Once at the hutch, Evan stood there, looking it over, and then he began sort of pushing it back and forth. An action which Pepe

did not appreciate.

"You're scaring him," I said. "Why are you pushing it like that?"

"Seein' what kind of shape it's in. This thing is nearly rotten, Harlie. There's no point to tryin' to do anything to it. I didn't realize it

was this bad."

"Well, but that's all I've got to put him in!" I protested. "Can't you just-well, just sort of shore it up, a little?"

"Shore it up?" Evan asked, giving me a look.

"Please, Ev? Can't you do something with it?"

"Well, I might be able to. But, it's not a quick fix. It would take awhile, and I've got other stuff to do."

"Oh," I said, disappointed.

Evan looked at my face, and then sighed. "I'll get a couple pieces of lumber, and tack them up on the bottom for right now. Maybe

I can do some more later on."

"Okay!" I said, gratefully. I tagged after Evan while he went to find the lumber, and helped him carry things.

"Better move him out of there while I'm doing this," Evan said.

"Okay," I said agreeably, and put on my gloves, pulling Pepe out.

"Now go put him somewhere," Evan said.

"I'll just hold him while you work on it," I said.

"No. I'm doin' this for you, so you can help with it. Go put him in one of the animal carriers, or somethin'."

I rolled my eyes behind his back, and went in search of one of the steel animal cages that my brothers use to catch

pesky raccoons or opossums in. I found one, and put Pepe in. In yet another new surrounding, he set up a fuss.

I broke my thumbnail, and bruised my leg toting the cage back over to where Evan was working. He'd turned the

hutch completely upside down, and was pulling off rotted wood.

"Why didn't you just leave him over there?" Evan complained. "That caterwauling gets on my nerves."

"He's just upset," I defended. "He'll stop in a minute, as long as he knows he's gonna have people around."

"Good gravy," Evan said. And Pepe did settle down a bit. Evan had me go fetch a saw, and a measuring tape, and

he measured and then cut the lumber, and redid the floor of the hutch. When he was done, I took one side and we flipped

it right side up again.

"That's great, Ev," I said, with enthusiasm. "It looks a ton better."

"It still needs work," he said, looking it over critically.

I reached down to take Pepe out of the steel cage, and snuggled him to my chest for a minute.

"Aren't you supposed to wear gloves?" Evan said, picking up the short, scrap pieces of lumber and the hammer.

"He's not going to bite. Adam's being over the top about it," I told him.

"You'd better listen, just the same."

As Evan set off with the boards and stuff, I called after him, "Thank you!"

After I'd held Pepe for a few minutes, I put him back in the hutch, and refilled his water and food.

By the time I'd done by regular chores, it was nearly lunch time. Bill was going to pick me up just after one o'clock,

so I went inside to take a shower, and change to nice jeans and one of my new school shirts.

7


	6. Acquainting

I was still upstairs when Bill arrived. I wasn't late. He was early. Clare came up and tapped on my bedroom door,

and then came in, to tell me he was on the front porch, being talked to by some of the family.

I paused, in the braiding of my hair, to say, "Who?"

Clare heard the anxiety in my voice, and smiled a little. "Well, Adam. And Hannah. When I came up, anyway."

She came over closer, and twirled her finger to signal me to turn around. As she began to finish my braid, she

said, "You look nice."

"Do you think this blouse is too dressy?" I asked.

"I think it's just right."

When I went downstairs, I heard the voices from the porch, and knew that Brian had joined Adam and Hannah, in greeting

Bill.

"Ooo," I said.

"Brian will behave," Clare said, very low.

When I stepped out onto the porch, Bill gave me a quick smile, and then his smile faded just as quickly. I wondered why, exactly, and then

thought that maybe he didn't want to look too eager.

"Hi, Harlie."

"Hi."

I stood next to him for just a few more minutes, while Adam and Brian talked to Bill. Hannah didn't say too much. Mostly, they

talked about the truck Bill was driving. A rebuilt 1969 Ford. Bill was telling them that it belonged to his father.

Eventually, Hannah broke into the conversation. "What movie are you going to see?" she asked.

Bill turned to look at me. "I thought we might see 'Harry and the Hendersons. If that's okay with Harlie."

I nodded. "Sure. It looks as though it would be funny."

Hannah hooked her hand thru Adam's arm. "Well, have fun," she said, with a smile. I knew she was trying to be helpful, and edge us on our way.

"Thanks, Hannah," I said. I took some steps down the front stairs.

Bill began to follow me.

"We'll be home after the movie," I said, looking back at the three of them, standing on the porch.

"Drive safe," Adam said.

Bill said, "Alright. I will," and waited while I got into the truck, shutting the door after me, and going around to the driver's side.

As we drove down the driveway, and started towards Angels Camp, we talked. First, about school, and general things like that.

He asked me about working for Ivy, and then, when there had been a bit of a lull in the conversation, he said, "Do the girls

at school talk a lot about things?"

Not entirely certain what he meant, I turned to look at him. "Well, they do talk about stuff. What do you mean, exactly?"

Bill seemed to hesitate, and then he said, "Well, my sister, the one that's a senior, Felicity?"

I nodded, and he hesitated again.

"She got pregnant last year. Before we moved here."

I was a little startled. "Oh."

"She put the baby up for adoption."

"Oh," I said again.

"Yeah." He sighed. "It was kind of a mess. I just wondered if any of the girls here were gossiping about her."

"I haven't heard anybody say anything at all," I told him, and Bill looked relieved.

"That's good. The reason I didn't call you again this summer was because Lissy tried to go find the baby."

"Wow," I said, stunned.

"Yeah. My dad was really flipping out. So I had to pick up the slack at home."

I wondered if I should ask questions, then I thought that it might be okay. Since he'd brought it up, and told me about it.

"Did she find the baby?" I asked.

"No. She wasn't sposed to, anyway. The people that adopted the baby had already left the state."

"Is she sorry that she put the baby up for adoption?" I asked. I couldn't imagine being put in that position.

"I don't know. I guess she is sometimes. She doesn't really talk about it."

"It must be really hard for her," I said.

"Yeah. See, the thing about me and Lissy is, we're real close in age. The others are all a lot older that us. So, we've always been

close."

"Like me and Guthrie," I said. "It sounds like us."

"But Lissy won't talk to me now. About this. Or anything, really. She just sort of-went inside of herself. I don't know how

to help her."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard for you, too." I thought for a minute. "What made you think that people might be gossiping about her?"

"When we started school last spring here, she sort of got to be friends with a couple of girls here. She confided in them. About the baby.

And now, they won't talk to her anymore. And, they called her a couple of names."

"What girls?" I asked.

"Um," Bill thought for a minute. "Madison-something. And this girl that rides with the rodeo. Reagan. She's a real horrible girl."

Oh, my goodness. I gave Bill a shake of my head. "I know her. Reagan Clark."

"I hope she's not a friend of yours," Bill said, looking as though he might have offended me.

"Good grief, no," I said, vehemently. "She's horrible. Just like you said."

Bill grinned a little. "I'm glad. That's she's not your friend, I mean."

"No way. She's sort of like my arch nemesis, or whatever they call it."

"No kidding?" he asked.

"No kidding."

After a moment's silence, I said, "I'm sorry that happened to Felicity. Maybe she'll make some friends at school."

"I hope so, too." At the fervent sound in his voice, I thought again of Guthrie. Bill wanted what was best for Felicity. Just like

Guthrie did for me.

7

The movie at Angels Camp was funny. Bill bought a tub of popcorn and we shared it while we watched. I liked him, but I was

glad that he didn't try to hold my hand, or anything like that during the movie.

When we drove back into my driveway at home, Bill said, "It was fun. Thanks, Harlie."

I smiled at him. "I think it was, too."

He pulled up, and we got out. He paused, in front of the truck. "Well, I better get home. My dad's expecting me."

"Okay. I'll you at school," I said.

"Okay."

For a moment, just a moment, I thought he was going to try to kiss me. And, it wasn't that I wouldn't have kissed him. It was

just that right there, in front of the house, in broad daylight, where any of my brothers might be within eyesight, well, no.

Bill seemed to think of all of that, too, and took a step back, and just grinned. "See you, Harlie."

"See you," I echoed.

7

When I went into the house, Isaac was propelling himself around the living room, alternately crawling, and pulling himself

up to stand beside the couch. Hannah and Clare were standing, surveying the living room as though scoping it out.

I went to swoop Isaac up, making him laugh. "Hi," I told them.

"Hi, sweetie. How was your date?" Hannah asked, turning to look at me.

"Good. Fun," I said.

"I'm glad," Hannah said, and Clare smiled at me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, curiously.

"Thinking out how we can best fit in the wedding guests," Hannah said.

"Oh." I blew a raspberry on Isaac's belly.

After a few minutes, I returned Isaac to his task of exploring his steps, and went upstairs to change out of my good clothes. When I was redressed,

in shaggy denim cut-offs, and an old t-shirt, I came back downstairs. I grabbed an apple and went out the back door of the kitchen. I was hunting

for Ford, and I found him, involved with Guthrie, patching up the rowboat that he'd bought recently.

They had it perched over sawhorses, and were painting on that black stuff that plugs up holes in boats.

"Hey, Har," Ford greeted me.

"Hey. What are you doing?"

"We're sunning ourselves on a beach in Tahiti," Guthrie said.

"Smartass," I accused.

"Just tryin' to get the boat up and going," Ford told me.

"That'll be fun," I said.

Ford gave me a grin. "What's up with that skunk?" he asked me.

I sighed. "Long story."

"I bet," Ford said and laughed.

"Adam says I have to find a home for him, but it's hard."

"Yeah," Guthrie chimed in. "She doesn't seem to get the fact that skunks aren't what people want in a pet." He laughed.

"Just because people like you have no true understanding," I fired back at him.

"How's Captain Jack?" I asked Ford, changing the subject.

"He's good. The star of the dorm, just like he was last year," Ford said.

"That's good. When are you gonna be done with this?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"Because I want to hang out with you," I said.

"You're the one that took off on a date today," Ford said, and grinned at me again.

"Well. I'm here now," I said, and grinned back.

"Let me work on this awhile longer, and then we can go do somethin'," Ford said.

After that, I went to tend to Pepe. He seemed sort of down, I thought. I considered. Even though the hutch was

really a lot better since Evan had worked on it, I knew that I had to do something to find Pepe a home.

A thought occurred to me, and awhile after that, when Ford and Guthrie and I went to the creek to go fishing, I

asked Ford about it.

He widened his eyes at me. "Are you kidding?" he demanded.

"No. I'm serious."

"No way."

"Why not?" I persisted. "I'll bet the other guys at the dorm would get a big charge out of having him around."

"I think Captain Jack's enough of a handful."

"But Pepe's not like Captain Jack. He's nice. Please, Ford?"

He shook his head at me. "Nope."

"Aw," I said, disappointed.

Guthrie snickered. "Shot that idea down."

"Nobody asked you anything, Guthrie," I said, and stuck out my tongue at him.

7


	7. Butch's

Ford let his boat repair dry for a while, after dragging it out into the sunshine. Then he hooked it behind one of the four-wheelers, and

Guthrie and I got in it, and he pulled us along, to the creek. We were having so much fun, laughing, and Ford kept speeding up, until

we were skimming along around the yard.

I tried to convince Ford to leave it up by the house instead of taking it to the creek.

"We can have more fun this way," I told him. "Just being pulled by the four-wheeler."

"Naw. I want to see how it floats," Ford said.

Once at the creek, we pushed it into the water, and Ford got in it, rowing himself out a ways.

Guthrie sank to the grass beside the water, and folded his hands underneath his head, looking up thru the trees.

I, meanwhile, stood on the shore watching Ford.

"How is it?" I called out.

"Okay, I think," Ford said, and then almost immediately, he hunkered down to examine the repaired spot, and said, "Well, no. It's

leaking again."

"I told you, you didn't put enough of that gunk on it," Guthrie hollered out, without raising his head.

Ford began rowing back to the creek bank. "More than likely, it was because I pulled you two around the yard," he argued.

He climbed out of the boat, and tugged it up. I went to help him, and between the two of us we had it sitting on the bank, while Guthrie stayed just

where he was.

"Thanks for the help, Guth," Ford said, tongue-in-cheek.

"No problem," Guthrie said, unbothered.

"Are you taking it back to the barn?" I asked Ford.

"I guess so. I sure thought I had the leak patched."

"I'll pull it back," Guthrie offered, sitting up. He got up fast, then, and was on the seat of the four-wheeler.

He backed up, and Ford retied the boat to the back of the four-wheeler.

"Hop in," Guthrie told us.

"I'm gonna walk up," Ford said.

"What about you, Har?" Guthrie asked.

"I'll go with Ford," I said.

Guthrie roared off then, way faster than necessary. The boat was sliding left to right behind the four-wheeler, and Ford

shook his head.

"Probably won't have any bottom left to it at all, by the time he gets to the house with it," he said.

Ford and I started walking back up the grassy path towards home.

I asked him about his classes at college, and after he'd talked for awhile about that, he said, "I might not be home as much for

awhile."

"How come?" I asked, instantly feeling a let down.

"A couple of them are tough. I'm gonna have a lot more buckling down to do."

"Oh," I said, subdued.

Ford noticed. He gave my arm a squeeze, and said, "I mean, I'll try to, but I've got to ace my classes."

"I know."

That night, as we were finishing supper, Lori called. Evan had finished eating, and was heading out to go see Nancy. He answered

the phone and then stuck his head back into the kitchen.

"For you, Har," he said, and was gone.

I pushed my chair in, and took what was left of my roll with me. I picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Harlie," Lori said.

"Hi."

"Can you come over and spend the night? My parents are going out with some friends. We could have the house to ourselves. At least

until they get home."

I considered, thinking of the mountain of homework I had that needed doing. Still, I thought that I could finish it alright the next day, when

I got home from Lori's.

"Maybe I can. Let me go ask," I told her. I was in the process of laying the phone receiver on the small table when Adam came

in from the kitchen. He was talking to Ford.

I took advantage of the lull in the conversation to interrupt and ask Adam if I could go to Lori's.

He paused, wrinkling his forehead a little in thought.

"Don't you have homework?" he asked.

"I can do it tomorrow afternoon."

"You just spent the night over there last weekend," he said.

I shrugged. "That's okay. She wants me to come."

He hesitated, and I took advantage of that hesitation, just as Hannah was coming into the room.

"Please, Adam? I'll come home by lunchtime, and get started on my chores and homework."

"What's this?" Hannah asked, and Adam turned to tell her what I wanted to do. Hannah immediately looked all 'concerned'.

"I thought you had quite a bit of homework," she said.

I sighed. I got so tired of having to explain to so many adults.

"I can do it tomorrow afternoon," I said, repeating what I'd told Adam.

Hannah looked as though she was going to say something more. Most likely, I thought, it would be about how I needed to

get to bed earlier, because of the schedule I was keeping.

I precipitated that by saying again, "Please, Adam?"

Adam exchanged a look with Hannah, and while she said nothing more, he said, "Alright. But you need to meet us at church in the

morning. And then come home and buckle down to your homework."

I didn't particularly want to join them for church services. I would have much rather planned to sleep until Lori and I woke up, and then

hang around with her awhile longer in the morning. Still, I didn't want to press my luck.

"Okay," I agreed.

"So pack some church clothes," Hannah said quietly.

I nodded, and picked up the phone, to tell Lori that I'd be at her house shortly.

I went upstairs to throw some clothes into my overnight bag, and then went to collect my diabetes supplies. I was in the kitchen doing

that when Guthrie came in, pouring himself a glass of milk. When I asked him to check on Pepe, he gave me a mock frown.

"I'm gettin' tired of being the babysitter for that thing."

I knew he didn't really mean it, so I just said, "Thanks, Guthrie," and headed out.

7

When I got to town, to Lori's house, and had parked my truck, and taken my bag up to her bedroom, she showed me

all the snacks she'd gotten.

"My dad said not to go anywhere in the car while they're gone tonight," she said, looking petulant.

"That's okay," I told her. "We can hang out here. It's fine."

"We could walk to Butch's, or go somewhere in your truck," she suggested.

I considered. It would be okay, I thought, to go to Butch's for awhile.

So we did. Walk to Butch's. Being Saturday night, it was jam-packed with teenagers. Outside, and inside both. We weaved our

way thru the throng of kids outside, pausing to talk to people. Like I said before, Butch is strict about kids drinking around his place,

but I did catch sight of a few discreetly placed beers. Inside, we joined in a game of pool with some other kids. I was somewhat surprised

to see Steven there. I was drinking a Coke, and waiting my turn to shoot, when I saw him across the room a bit. He raised his

hand to wave at me, and I reacted in what seemed to be instinctively. I turned my head away, pointedly not waving in return.

7

After that, we went outside for awhile. It got awfully hot inside Butch's with that many people. Outside, there was a bit of a breeze.

We talked to some other kids for awhile, and, as we were getting ready to work our way back to Lori's house, Chelsea came running

up, clutching at my arm and laughing.

"There's a party at the old Mill Road," she said, in an exaggerated whisper, as if it was a big secret.

I'd already heard the party being discussed inside of Butch's, so I wasn't surprised.

"I've got my brother's car," she said. "You two want to go?"

I like Chelsea. I do. We've been friends since fourth grade. Not the best of friends, but friends. She's an alright girl. She's a

little flighty, but she's okay.

Lori and I exchanged a glance, standing there under the street light in front of Butch's.

I was glad when Lori said, "No, thanks."

"How about you, Harlie?" Chelsea asked.

I shook my head. "No."

Chelsea started talking about how they were going to set off some fireworks and all of that. One of the boys from our class came up

and slung his arm around Chelsea's shoulders. Chelsea giggled again. "Hi, Donnie," she said.

"Hi, girls," he said, with a grin that included us all. "Comin' to the party?"

Lori and I both said no, and he shook his head. "Too bad," he said. "It's gonna be fun." He tipped the hand that wasn't wrapped around

Chelsea, and took a swallow of beer.

He'd already had plenty. That was obvious. And then, with a quickness that surprised me, Donnie flung that same arm, the one

holding the beer, around my shoulders, pulling Chelsea and I both in closer.

I was edging away from his grasp, and he was pulling me in, both at the same time.

I muttered 'bat shit' as he sloshed beer across my shoulder and in part of my hair.

"Donnie, you dumb ass," I complained. wiping at my shoulder.

"Sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all.

"Let's go," I told Lori, and she nodded, and we began walking. The street past Butch's was still filled with cars. Small town

America. Kids hollering and honking at each other.

"He really got you good, didn't he?" Lori asked me, sympathetically, sniffing.

"Yeah. I'll change when we get to your house. Can I wash my shirt, too?" I asked her.

"Yeah, we'll put it in, and get it done before my parents get home."

"Okay," I said, relieved. I for sure did not want Adam or Hannah or Brian or anybody else to smell beer on my clothes by chance

the next day, and think I'd been drinking.

We were nearly to Lori's, when we heard a single honk behind us. Thinking it was just some other kids, we turned to look.

"It's Evan," I said, as Evan pulled up, and over, directly under another street light. Lori and I walked up to the passenger side window, where Nancy

leaned out.

"Hey, you two," she greeted us. "I told Evan I was sure that was you walking."

"Hi," I said.

Evan was leaning forward, too, looking across Nancy at us.

"What are you doin'?" he asked.

"We went to Butch's to play pool," I said.

"We're going back to my house now," Lori added.

I could tell by the look that Nancy was giving me, and the way her nose was wrinkled, that she could smell the beer on me. I gave her a

look meant to encourage silence on her part. I'd never know if she would have kept silent, though, because Evan smelled it, too.

"Dang, Harlie," he said. "You smell like a brewery."

I lifted the strand of my hair that had gotten the worst of it, and brought it up to my face. "Some dumb ass spilled it on

me," I said.

For a moment, just a moment, there was a charged silence.

Thinking to help me, Lori said, "It was Donnie," she offered. "Donnie Grover."

"Drinkin' at Butch's?" Evan asked, sounding skeptical.

"In the parking lot," I said briefly. I knew that Evan knew, that that very thing did happen, though rarely.

"Oh," he said.

I met his eyes, leaning into the truck window a bit more. "I'm gonna wash my shirt and stuff at Lori's," I said.

"Okay," he said.

I thought Evan believed what I'd said. That I hadn't been drinking, but that it had been sloshed on me instead. I wanted

him to believe me. But there, in the street light, with Lori and Nancy both there, I didn't want to get all dramatic and demand

that he acknowledge his belief in me.

So I just looked at him, sort of hoping he would get my unspoken meaning. Sort of a cross between pleading for him to believe me, and nerves that

he might get all 'trail-boss' on me.

I felt a surge of relief when he nodded briefly, and said, "Okay. Well, see ya tomorrow then."

"Okay. See you," I echoed.

Nancy gave me a smile, too. "Bye."

"Bye, Nanc," I said.

The truck pulled away again, out into the street, and around the block. Lori and I kept walking then, her house in sight now.

"Did he believe you, do you think?" she asked me.

"Yeah, I think so."

"Evan's so nice," she said, with a sigh.

Unlike other of my friends, who ooh and ahh over Daniel or even Guthrie, Lori has always had sort of a crush on Evan.

She's never really said so, in so many words, but I can tell, by the way she talks about him.

"Yeah," I said. "He really is."

7


	8. Not enough shut-eye

Lori and I stayed up way too late that night. I'd managed to get my shirt washed, and was pulling it out of the dryer just

as Lori's parents were arriving home. I'd already taken a shower, as well, to get the smell of beer out of my hair.

Lori's mom is nice and all, but I always feel a little bit uncomfortable around her. I always feel as though I need to be

super-polite, and all that. Partly due to what happened last school year, when Lori and I had gone to a beer party, and Lori had

gotten caught coming home. Add to that, I'd used Lori as a ride to the bus depot last spring when I'd taken off to Daniel's, and

I felt somehow Lori's mom thought I might be sort of a bad influence. Still, Lori and I have been friends since first grade, and

it's not as though her mom is rude or unkind to me in any way at all. She's not. She always asks about everybody at home, inquiring about

how the family is doing, and asks me about school, makes sure I'm comfortable and all of that.

I guess I try extra hard to act right around her because I would hate for Lori to not be allowed to hang around with me.

Like I said, we stayed up way too late. Lori has a television in her bedroom, and we watched a movie, and then another movie

after that. We ate a bunch, too. I ate popcorn, and drank two Cokes, but I restrained myself from eating more than one

candy bar.

After we'd gone to bed, we talked and laughed, and it was nearly one a.m. before we fell asleep. The alarm rang early. Well, it

wasn't too early, really. Church starts at nine, and the alarm rang at eight. It's just a few blocks to the church from Lori's house, so

I would have had plenty of time. But, I just couldn't do it. I reached over and pressed the snooze button. When it buzzed again,

it was 8:15. Still, I would have had time. But, I pushed it again. Just fifteen more minutes, I told myself.

At 8:30, when it buzzed insistently, I forced myself to get up, and pulled on my corduroy pants, and white blouse. I'd forgotten other

shoes, so I had to wear my tennis shoes. I was brushing my hair furiously, when Lori stirred a little.

"You leaving?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Stay, and my mom will fix us a huge breakfast," Lori coaxed.

"Sounds great," I said, wistfully. "But I can't. Adam said I had to meet everybody at church."

"Oh, that's right. I forgot. I can get up and walk out with you," Lori offered.

I gave her a wave of my hand. "You don't have to. Sleep some more for me, okay?"

I took my bag, and went out of the house as quietly as I could. I started my truck up, and drove the short distance to

the church without bothering to put my seatbelt on. I nibbled on a granola bar as I drove.

It was crowded around the church, with not much parking spaces left. I had to drive around the block twice, and then finally

decided I would have to park a distance away, like all the other latecomers do.

So, I came into the church sanctuary after services had already begun. It was already 9:15 according to the big wooden

clock on the wall. I would have sat at the very back so I didn't draw attention, but all of those pews were already filled. Darn it.

I could see the majority of the family, sitting up nearer to the front, in their usual place. We filled a pew and a half all by ourselves, if

everybody came.

By now, Guthrie, tugging uncomfortably at his collar, had turned enough to see me. He gave me a nod with his head. Enough that Crane, sitting

next to him, saw me as well. He gave a brief motion with his hand, urging me to come their way.

I went up the aisle, and squeezed onto the end of the pew, as Nancy moved over to make room for me.

"Hey," she greeted me, with a whisper.

"Hey," I whispered back.

Hannah, in the pew ahead of us, turned and gave me a brief smile. Isaac saw me, too, and reached for me. I leaned forward,

and took him from Hannah.

I held Isaac for a few minutes, until he was passed on along the pew and ended up on Ford's lap. I was so tired that it was

a real struggle to keep my eyes open at all. Pastor Curry seemed to just drone on and on. I knew that was the wrong attitude to have,

but his voice is so monotone. Today, especially, it seemed.

At one point, I felt Nancy's elbow, pressing into my side. I sat up straighter, and focused my eyes on the stained glass at the

front of the church sanctuary.

I was beyond relieved when services were over, and I could stand up, making my way out of the church. There was a little

breeze outside, and I took a deep breath.

Nancy, at my side still, smiled. "Late night, huh?" she asked.

"I really need a nap," I confided.

Nancy started talking about how she wanted to go window-shopping the next weekend, to look at wedding dresses.

"Want to tag along?" she invited.

"Yes. Sure," I said.

I was standing by Evan's truck, with him and Nancy, Ford and Guthrie, when Adam and Hannah walked up.

"Better late than never," Adam said to me, in greeting.

I gave him a closer inspection. There was a hint of a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah," I said, giving him a hint of a smile as well.

Guthrie hitched a ride home with me. I was so tired that I handed him the keys, and let him drive. In that time, I closed my eyes,

and let the blessedness of sleep overtake me.

It was way too short of a ride, before Guthrie was shaking me awake.

"We're home, Sleeping Beauty," he said.

"Ugh," I groaned, sitting up straighter.

I carried my bag inside, and put stuff away. The smell of the soup cooking in the two crockpots filled the air.

Everybody was in the midst of changing out of their church clothes, and then gathering around the kitchen table for lunch.

I ate two bowls of the soup, and a roll.

"That was good, Hannah," I said, as everybody was finishing up and pushing in their chairs.

"Thanks, sweetie." She gave me a closer look. "You look pale."

"I feel fine."

As soon as lunch was over, I went outside, to feed the goats, and then to check on Pepe. I took him out of the cage, and

slipped around the side of the barn, holding him against my chest. Without any gloves, I might add.

He made his sounds of contentment.

"Harlie!" I heard my name being called.

There was no time to do anything, before Brian appeared around the side of the barn.

"Here, you are," he said. "Can you help me for a few minutes? I need to roll up some wire-"

He paused his talking, taking me in.

"I can help you," I said, scrambling to my feet, and walking past him towards Pepe's cage.

I reinstalled Pepe in his cage, and latched it, turning to face Brian.

He was regarding me with an intense expression. He went on so long, without saying anything at all, that I spoke first.

"Pepe is perfectly tame," I precipitated. "He's docile."

"Uh huh," he said, dryly.

"He is."

"So, there's no problem then, with you tellin' Adam you're not using gloves to tend to him?"

I met his eyes, and then sighed. "Adam worries too much."

"So, again, no problem with you tellin' him, then?"

Brian sometimes reminds me of a dog with a bone that he doesn't want to release.

"I'll tell him," I said, feeling sulky.

"Good. Then I won't have to."

That little exchange did nothing to improve my mood. I spent the next forty-five minutes helping Brian with the wire rolling project

he had going on. I was as silent as I was able to be, only answering Brian when he asked me something directly. And when I did answer,

I was as short with my answers as I could be, without actually being sassy.

When we were done, I wiped my hands on the legs of my jeans. "I'm going in and have some coffee," I said.

"Add some extra sugar to it," Brian suggested, lifting the rolled up wire to carry.

I gave me a questioning look. "Why?"

"Maybe it will sweeten you up a little."

I studied him, trying to gauge whether he was teasing me, or was truly irritated.

"I'm tired, Bri," I said, in complaint. I wouldn't have admitted anything like that to Crane, or to Adam or Hannah. They would all

three have decided that was the time to point out that I was doing 'too much'.

"Well, take a nap, then," Brian said, in suggestion.

"I can't. I have too much homework to do."

"We're done here. You can get started on it."

I sighed again, and Brian lifted an eyebrow. But all he said, was, "Go have that coffee."

7

I did go in and have coffee. I made a fresh pot, since the lunch pot had already been drained. I stood there in the kitchen, leaning

against the counter, and drank a large cup. After that, I spread my homework out across the kitchen table, and got to work.

I managed the phycology, and the Anatomy by myself. But, tired as I was, the trigonometry was too much for my brain. I shut

my math book with a slap. I drank more coffee, and then went in search of Ford. I found him upstairs, stuffing clothes in his

backpack to take back to college.

"Hannah folded those all so neatly for you, and now look at you, just shoving them in all willy-nilly," I said, leaning in his

doorway.

Ford turned and gave me a grin. "Don't tell her, huh?"

"Your secret is safe with me," I teased.

As he was finished, and was looking around the room for anything he might have missed, I asked him if he would help me

with my math.

"Yeah. If we do it now. I've gotta leave in about an hour to get on the road."

"Okay," I said, and we sat at the kitchen table together, with him patiently going over the assignment with me. I have to admit

that I let him do some of the thinking for me. Which is something Crane would never have let me get by with.

I just hoped Crane didn't happen to come into the kitchen until we were finished.

And, he didn't. I gave a breath of relief when we were done.

7

After Ford had left, to drive back to college, with pleadings from me for him to bring Captain Jack home the next time he came, I got caught in helping get supper on

the table.

Clare had fried up several pounds of bacon, and we had BLT's. We even used paper plates so there would be less dishes to wash. Paper

plates are a fairly rare event in our house. I took an early shower, and got into some comfortable pajamas. I was curled up on the edge of the couch

watching a movie with Guthrie. I was really only half-way watching, because I was so tired that my brain wasn't engaged. It was a western, though.

One with Alan Ladd in it.

I had Clarence up on the sofa between Guthrie and I, and he was snoring. I was laying there, half awake and half asleep, contemplating

just going on up to bed, when I heard Adam and Brian coming in from thru the kitchen. That made me remember what Brian had told me

about telling Adam how I was handling the skunk.

I thought quickly. I really didn't have the desire to tell him anything tonight. It would be better if I told him in the morning, before leaving

for school. He wouldn't have as long of a time to lecture me, or worse.

I asked Guthrie if he would put Clarence on the porch when he went to bed, and then I scuttled up the stairs.

7


	9. A labor call

I brushed my teeth and went on to bed after that, turning out my light. I think I was asleep nearly right away, though later I thought I

might have heard my door open, and then close again quietly.

7

I was nearly finished with my breakfast the next morning, when I asked Hannah quietly, so no one else would hear,

"Have there been any calls about Pepe from that ad in the newspaper?"

Hannah shook her head, looking regretful. "No. I would have told you if I'd heard something."

"I figured so. I just thought I'd ask," I said, with a sigh.

Guthrie, meanwhile, came back into the kitchen, asking me if I'd taken his biology book.

"I don't have it," I told him.

"Maybe you picked it up by accident, and put it with your stuff," he pointed out.

"I don't have it," I said, again. "Why would I take one of your books, when I have enough work of my own?"

"Well, I can't find it anywhere," Guthrie said, and started up the back stairs.

"Hurry up, Guthrie," Hannah called after him. "You'll be late."

I went to gather up my own stuff, preparing to leave. Adam was waiting on the front porch, just as usual, to see

Guthrie and I on our way.

"Ready to go?" he asked me, and I nodded.

"Where's your brother?" he asked then.

"Looking for a book he lost."

"Uh oh."

I paused in front of him, slinging my backpack over one shoulder. "I'll see you after work," I told him.

"I hope you have a good day," Adam said, smiling at me.

"I hope you do, too," I answered. I hesitated. "There hasn't been any answers about the newspaper ad," I said.

"No. Can't say as that's any big surprise, I guess."

"I thought I'd spend a few minutes after work, tacking up some flyers around town. See if anybody around Murphys might

be interested."

"Okay. Do you have them made up? The flyers, I mean?" he asked.

"No. I can do them in study hall today."

"Use your study hall for your schoolwork," Adam advised. "Do the flyers when you get home tonight."

"I'd rather do it during study hall," I said, and added, "That way they can be hung up today, instead of tomorrow. Even one day

might make a difference in the right person hearing about Pepe. I really want to find him a home."

Adam gave a brief nod. "Alright."

I stood there, studying him a bit. "He really is tame, Adam. And nice."

"Well, I'll just take your word on that," Adam said, and there was a bit of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"I have something to tell you," I said, not returning the hint of a smile.

He waited, and I said, in a hurry, "I've been holding him sometimes without gloves. Actually, quite a bit."

Adam was quiet for a couple of moments, and then said, "You have, huh?"

I nodded, and waited. I couldn't tell if he was surprised or not.

"I told you that because I was concerned about you getting bitten. I wasn't trying to be unreasonable," he said.

I wondered if he'd heard me complaining to Evan or Brian about how I thought he was overreacting, but then I dismissed

that. Neither one of them would have told him that I'd said that, and he hadn't been anywhere near by to overhear my comments.

"I know you weren't," I said. And, I meant it. Just because I'd thought he was overreacting, or being a bit unreasonable, didn't

mean that I thought that he felt as though he was. Adam had been issuing an order from concern, and nothing more.

"But, you think I was wrong," he said, quietly. "Is that it?"

He was surprising me right and left with the way he was approaching my confession. Instead of hollering at me, he was

making me feel sort of ashamed of myself. I felt my face get warm.

"It's just-" I hesitated. "Pepe's never shown any signs of being aggressive. I usually just hold him when he's calm. If he was really upset,

then I'd wear gloves for sure, just in case."

Adam was quiet, studying me, and I wondered if I'd spoken out too much.

Guthrie burst thru the door, and ran past us, down the stairs.

"Find your book?" Adam called after him.

"Yeah, I found it. See ya later!"

Guthrie jumped in his truck, and was gone, stirring up the dust down the driveway, and waving a hand out the window

at us.

I shifted the backpack again, and looked at Adam. I didn't want to leave without having things settled between us. But, he wasn't saying

anything. He was just looking at me, his expression sort of hard to read.

"Am I in the doghouse?" I asked him, hoping he would half-smile again.

"We'll talk about it some more later on," he said.

Well, that wasn't really what I wanted to hear. Now, I knew I would worry all day about whether he was going to be angrier when he'd

had time to think.

But, before I left for school, Adam told me to have a good day, just like he does every other morning.

7

During journalism class, Miss McQueeny said we had to start working on the first edition of this year's school newspaper. Assignments

were tossed around, and everybody could jump in and take their pick, for the most part.

Most of the kids in the class wanted to cover the football game on Friday night, and that kind of stuff. The others were to do

impromptu photos around school, in between classes. I went to her near the end of class, and asked what she thought of an article

about all the dogs and cats in our area that needed homes.

When she seemed interested, I went on to talk about the animals that my rescue group had fostered out.

"And I know that Ivy knows about a bunch more," I added.

"Ivy?" she asked, sitting on the edge of her desk, and looking at me. That's the thing about Miss McQueeny. When you're talking to

her, she always gives you her full attention.

"The new vet," I explained.

"Oh. Right. I've heard of her. Well, sure, Harlie, I think it's a good idea for an article. Go with it. And get a few pictures, too."

When I got to the vet office, ready for work, I was met by Ivy, coming out the front door, in a rush.

"I need to go to the McMullins," she said, talking as she walked towards her truck. "Want to ride along, or stay here and answer

the phone?"

"I'll go along with you, if you want me to," I said.

"Sure. Come on."

I hesitated, looking down at my school clothes. "Do I have time to change?" I asked. I'd taken to carrying older jeans and t shirts

in a bag in my truck, so I wasn't ruining my school clothes.

"Oh. Gosh. I totally forgot about your clothes. Yeah, go on and change. I'll check my supplies while you're doing that."

Ivy seemed rattled about something. I thought she must just have a lot on her mind.

I went back into the office, and to the small bathroom, quickly shedding my school clothes and replacing them with the tattered

jeans and lime green t shirt.

When I came back out, Ivy got into the driver's seat of her truck and I got into the passenger side.

For a few minutes there was quiet in the cab. Ivy looked lost in thought.

"What's up at the McMullins?" I asked.

"One of their mares is in labor."

"Oh. Exciting," I said.

"A birth always is," she agreed.

After that, she asked me about my weekend, and my classes, and then we arrived at the McMullin ranch.

We were greeted by an anxious Mr. McMullin and his daughter, Candy, who's about seven or so.

Ivy tried to set his mind at ease, but we hadn't been in the barn with the mare very long at all, before even I could tell

that it was going to be a difficult birth. It wasn't so much that I knew anything, it was just the way the mare was behaving, and

my own gut instinct.

When the foal finally was born, a beautiful little filly, Mr. McMullin reacted with relief, and Candy began to jump up and down so much that her father

had to tell her to stop before she made the mare more nervous.

And then, when Ivy said she thought there was another foal, a twin, things got more exciting.

Twins are extremely rare with horses, and I remembered wishing all thru my childhood that one of our expectant mares

would have twins. I was always thinking up cute twin names for them. It never happened at our ranch, though.

I did what I could to help, doing whatever Ivy told me to do, and some smaller actions that were just instinctive on my part.

As the second foal was delivered, I thought suddenly of Doc G, and imagined his face if he would have been here to see it.

The second foal, a male, was stillborn, though. Candy began to cry, until she was nearly hysterical with sobbing.

Ivy was working with the first foal, to get it up and nursing, and I did what I thought would be the most helpful.

I took Candy's hand, and pulled her away a bit, just outside the barn.

"Let's sit down," I told her, and we sat on a bale of straw.

Candy kept crying, and I could hardly make out the words at times. I'd gathered from the conversation when we arrived, that

the mare was Candy's.

She seemed to be certain that the other foal and her mare would die, too, simply because the second baby was stillborn.

"Oh, no, Candy, I think your mare's going to be fine," I assured her. "And the baby, too."

I patted her back, trying to think back to when I'd been that age, and one of our animals had gotten sick, or died. I'd cried myself,

a few times, about a goat or a baby calf that died. Whichever brother happened to get the dubious duty of calming me down,

would generally give me a few minutes to cry, (with more sympathy depending on which brother), and then I'd be told it was

a part of ranch life, and that it was time to tend to the animals that were alive and needing us.

So, I reenacted parts of that with Candy.

I began to talk about the newborn colt, and how she needed to think of a 'just-right' name for it, and how it would need her,

as would the mare. She would have to make sure they both had what they needed, and check on them often for the first few days. All of that.

So, I might have been a bit gentler about it than my brothers had been with me, but I did incorporate some of their advice into

my talk with her.

When Candy seemed to settle down, I offered her a piece of gum from my jeans pocket, and after a while longer, Ivy and I made

preparations to leave. The McMullins tried to get us to stay for a cold drink, but we began our drive back to Murphys.

"What did you say to the little girl to get her to calm down like that?" Ivy asked me.

"I just talked to her."

"Well, you must have magic in your words or something. She was totally different when she came back into the barn. Still sad, but

ready to enjoy the other foal."

"I don't know about magic," I said. "I just talked to her like Crane or Brian or Adam would have talked to me in a similar situation."

"Amazing family," Ivy said, and I knew she meant us. The McFaddens.

After that, she got quiet again, until finally I asked her, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You're just sort of quiet," I said.

"Oh. Well, I've just got some things on my mind, I guess."

"Something I can help with?" I offered. "I can come in on Saturdays to help out if you need me to."

"Thanks, Harlie. It's not really an overload of work. I mean, there's plenty to do and all-" she hesitated. "I'm babbling. That's

not it, but thanks."

"Okay," I said, figuring that I would let it drop.

We were coming into Murphys, and Ivy came to a near stop to let Mr. and Mrs. Imhof cross the street before she drove on.

"I guess I should let you know about it, though," she said then. "Since you're around the office so much, and all."

By now, she'd parked in front of the office, and we just sat there, while I waited for her to tell me whatever it was.

"You know how some of the ranchers around haven't really accepted me very well?" she began by saying.

I nodded, and felt my stomach get all jumpy.

"Some of them would like me to-well, for lack of a better word, move on," she said.

I stared across at her in the truck cab. "Did someone say something?" I burst out. "That's horrible!"

"Well, they've actually done a little more than say something," Ivy said. "They've started a petition, from what I've heard."

I was so shocked that I was still for a few moments. "A petition to do what?" I asked, though I was fairly certain already.

"To have me resign," Ivy said.

"Well, nobody will sign it," I declared stoutly. "At least not more than a handful of those old busybodies."

Ivy gave me a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Thanks, Harlie, but I hear that quite a few more than that have signed already."

"Well, you don't have to resign, do you?" I demanded. "Even if some people say you should?"

"No. Technically, I wouldn't have to," Ivy said.

"Technically?" I questioned, not liking the sound of that.

She nodded, and I said, "They can't make you!"

"No. They can't force me. But, they could make things very unpleasant."

I began to ask her in what way, when there was a tapping on the side of the truck, making us both jump, startled.

"Sorry, there, Miss Ivy," said Harve Barber, standing there and holding a shaggy little mixed breed dog. "Didn't intend to scare you."

"Oh, hello, Harve," Ivy said, getting out of the truck. "What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could take a look at Tiger for me. He just doesn't seem to be gettin' any better."

"Of course. Come on inside the office," Ivy said. She turned to look at me, where I was standing in front of the truck. "I'll see you tomorrow,

Harlie."

"I can stay and help," I offered.

Ivy gave a glance at her watch. "It's long past the time you're supposed to leave. Nearly a quarter to five. You should go inside and call

your house, and make sure they're not worried about you."

"Adam thought I was doing something after work anyway, but, yeah, I'll call," I said.

I followed her and Harve inside, after Ivy had unlocked the door, and started heading towards the back.

"See you tomorrow," Ivy said again, to me.

I told her goodbye, and dialed the number to the house.

When Hannah answered, she sounded out of breath.

"Hi, Hannah."

"Hi, sweetie. What's up? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I was out on a call with Ivy, and we just got back. I'm getting ready to hang the flyers up around town now, so I

might not be home by supper."

"Oh. Well, alright. How much longer do you think you'll be?"

"I don't know. Not too long."

"Alright. I'll put a plate back for you," she said.

"Okay. Thanks, Hannah."

After that, I went back outside, pausing in front of the office, debating on where it was best to start putting up the papers. I realized

that I needed a staple gun or something, and went back inside again, sorting thru Doc G's supplies. I found an old staple gun, and set out

on my way again.

I walked for a couple of blocks, tacking up posters wherever I thought they'd be best seen. I tacked one up inside the general store,

and the hardware store, too.

By the time I was done, and had trekked back to my truck, my arms were aching from lifting them over my head so many times to staple

to the poles.

I drove home, thinking longingly of the supper that Hannah had waiting for me. Glad that I only had trigonometry, and no other homework,

I started thinking. First, about Ivy. Poor Ivy. This was so upsetting. I didn't want her to be coerced, or made to feel unwelcome.

And, Adam. Wondering what he was going to say to me.

7

At home, I parked my truck, and gathered up my backpack and my bag of clothes, and went up the front steps and into the house.

Guthrie was sprawled out on one of the couches, reading from a science book, and tossing popcorn into his mouth.

Crane was seated at the desk, bent over paperwork and ledgers.

"Hey, Har," Guthrie greeted me.

"Hi," I said, closing the door, and dropping my backpack onto the other couch.

Crane paused, and turned in his chair to look towards me.

"Your supper's on the table," he said.

"Okay."

I started to walk towards the kitchen, and Crane said, 'Hey."

I stopped to look at him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes. Hungry," I told him, and he grinned.

"Well, that's good. You have much homework?"

"Trig."

"Okay. Let me know if you need help," he said.

I nodded, and went on to the kitchen. Adam was there, sitting and talking to Hannah at the table. Clare, meanwhile, was bustling

around, stirring sugar into a cup of tea.

They all greeted me, and then Hannah told me to put my plate in the microwave.

Then she got a look at my clothes, traces of blood and mud on them.

"Or do you want to shower first?" she asked me. "Looks like you had a rough afternoon."

"A new foal over at the McMullins," I shared. "Yeah, I'll go shower real quick. I'm starving."

"Did you get the flyers put up?" Adam asked me.

"Yes."

"That's good."

I paused at the bottom of the back stairs. "Am I in trouble? For what I told you this morning, about Pepe?"

"Adam understands, don't you, hon?" Hannah said, in an attempt to help. "If you promise to wear gloves from now on when you

handle him, then-"

"Hannah," Adam said. He said it quietly, but it caused Hannah to stop talking, and look at him.

Even Clare stopped what she was doing, and stood still.

"Go on and take your shower," Adam told me.

I went. I was out of the shower, and in my pajamas quickly, and back downstairs to the kitchen. Everybody was gone now, to

the other room. I heated my plate in the microwave, and was pouring myself a glass of milk when Adam came back into the

kitchen. I turned to face him, remembering the way he'd spoken to Hannah. Not meanly, just firm. I decided to just 'take the

bull by the horns', as they say.

"Adam, I'm hoping I find a home for Pepe soon. I'm really going to try hard to find him one. But, until I do, I won't promise I

won't hold him. I can't."

7


	10. Brian calls it

ATTN: Swearing in this chapter. (just a bit)

After Id made my big, tough, pronouncement, Adam's facial expression didn't really change. I mean, he didn't look mad, or

anything. Not happy, either. Just-a middle of the road type of expression.

The microwave dinged, signifying that my food was done. I didn't reach for it right then, though. Adam kept his eyes on me,

and went to lean against the counter to my side, so he was right next to me. He was quiet for several moments, until I

wondered if he was going to say anything at all. Still, I took that as a good sign. He hadn't started giving me what-for or anything.

I felt my confidence go up another notch.

"I see," he said, finally.

Later, I would remember the way he said that. 'I see'. And, I'd realize that the way he'd said it, and those two small words

had led me into a false sense of security. Into thinking he was going to react with understanding, and respect my bid for

maturity. Yeah, right.

"You have Terrence's number, then?" he asked.

I blinked at him, puzzled. "What?" I asked.

"Terrence. Do you have his phone number?" he asked again.

"I think so," I said, still not getting it. "Why?"

"So that as soon as you're finished eating, you can give him a call, to tell him you can't keep the skunk any longer."

Adam's voice was still quiet, he hadn't raised it even one notch, but he didn't have to.

Ah. It hit me like a tidal wave then. I felt immediate panic rise up.

"Adam, no!" I protested. "I can't do that-Terrence trusted me to have Pepe!"

He said nothing. Just stood there, tall and unyielding, his arms crossed.

"He's at college-" I offered next.

"You can call his parents, and get his number at college. And tell him he needs to come and pick Pepe up as soon as

possible."

"Adam-" I began again, and then I stopped. It was like running into a brick wall. There's only so many times you

can make yourself do it, before you give in.

I couldn't imagine having to call Terrence, to tell him that I'd failed. Not only at finding a permanent home for Pepe, but

also failed at being able to foster him myself.

"We had an agreement," Adam said. "I agreed the skunk could stay until you found him a home, and you agreed to

wear gloves, and not treat him as though he's a puppy. It seems as though we're not able to agree now, though. And, since

you feel so strongly about it, and so do I, then I think calling Terrence is the logical solution to settle the problem."

By now, I was wondering what the heck had gotten into me. Thinking that I could take Adam on, and win. It would

be laughable, except I'd never felt less like laughing.

"If I promise to wear gloves, will you go back to the agreement?" I asked, feeling emotional.

"But, you haven't been wearin' gloves, remember?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"If I promise that I will, from now on, will you?" I asked.

"A promise is all the time, every single time," he specified. "Not just when it suits you, or when you think I might

catch you without them."

"Yes," I said. "Every single time."

Adam studied me. "You promised me that already," he said. "And you didn't keep your word to me. Why should I believe

that you mean it now?"

I felt tears welling up in my eyes. "I don't want to have to call Terrence, Adam," I admitted. "I don't want to fail Pepe. I

want to find him a really good forever home."

He was quiet, as if gauging my sincerity.

"I swear it," I said, pleadingly.

"Alright, Harlie," he said, and I felt my breath sort of whoosh out in relief. Well, at the same time as I felt my stomach

knot even tighter. He was still giving me a 'down to my toes' sort of look. Just that look is enough to make my stomach

do loop-de-loops.

And, then he took a step or two closer to me, and lifted my chin with his hand.

"I understand your passion for your animals," he said, quietly. "And, that's a good thing to have. But, you need to

watch out, and not overstep yourself. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes," I managed.

"Okay," he said, and released my chin.

I felt like crying, then. I turned to get my plate out of the microwave, mostly for something to do, so I could get

myself together a little.

As I got my plate, Adam poured himself a cup of coffee. As he was heading out of the kitchen, I was preparing to

sit down at the table to eat. He paused, and turned back to look at me.

"Do you want to sit in here and eat, all by yourself?" he asked me.

I still felt embarrassed, like I always do, after he's gotten onto me. I stood there, my plate in my hand, and shrugged.

"I don't know," I said, vaguely.

"Come on," he said, then, his voice kind. He was waiting for me, and he gave me a half-smile, so I followed him

out of the kitchen, and into the living room.

7

I ate my supper, surrounded by everybody, as they were either reading, or talking, or watching television. I was subdued

in silence. I wondered, for at least the one hundred-millionth time, how it was that I could get by with absolutely nothing.

7

The next day, I used my study hall to try to get a jump on the worksheets for the anatomy class. I felt the very first

stirrings of unease about getting swept under by all the work I had with my classes. But, I shoved that unease away.

I was fine, I told myself stoutly.

One bright spot in the day was when somebody actually showed an interest in taking Pepe. It was a boy in the sophomore class.

Zach Brady. He's on the football team, and even gets to play with the varsity, sometimes. He came up to lean against the locker

next to mine, in between classes, before I left to go to Ivy's.

"So, how about the skunk?" That's how he started the conversation.

"What do you mean?"

"You're lookin' for somebody to take a skunk, right? I saw your posters."

"Yeah. I am," I said, shifting my books to my other arm, and shutting my locker.

"I'm your guy," he said, with a sort of cocky grin.

After that, he asked some things, and I asked some things, and we ended up agreeing to him coming over to the house

that evening, to see Pepe.

So, I felt hopeful, as I drove to the vet office. Ivy wasn't in the front office when I got there. I went to the bathroom, to

change into my work clothes, and then went in search of her. I found her, at the back of the building, standing, with her

jeans wet from the knee down, and peering at the water heater.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I think the water heater has gone out or something," she said.

"Oh," I said, and lifted my foot up. The carpet here at the back of the building is old, and it's that old style, that's called

indoor-outdoor carpeting. Doc G put it in years ago, and so it's stained and not in great shape, or anything. But, now it was

soaking wet, and you could hear the water sloshing as you walked over it.

Ivy was kneeling down, peering at the water heater again. "Do you know how old this is?" she asked me.

"No. I don't know."

"I think it's pretty old," she said, and stood up again. She looked as though she was thinking, and I could tell she

was worried.

"Do you have somebody to call, or something?" I asked, and then felt foolish. She wasn't from around here. There was no

father, or uncle, or brothers nearby for her to call to the rescue.

"I could call the man at the hardware store, I guess," she said. "What's his name?"

"Mr. Baker."

"Mr. Baker. Right," she repeated, looking as though she was trying to gather her thoughts.

"I could call home," I suggested. "One of the guys could come in."

"Oh, I couldn't ask them to do that," she said. "They've got their own work to do."

"They'll come," I said. "Well, one of them will anyway."

Over Ivy's continued protests, I went back up front, and dialed home. As it began ringing, I lifted my foot, examining

my tennis shoes. They were already wet clean thru.

To my surprise, it wasn't Hannah who finally answered the phone. After four rings, Brian answered. They must have been inside

eating their lunch.

"Hullo?"

"Hey, Bri. It's me," I said.

"Hey there, me," he mocked. And then, "Where are you?"

"At the vet office. Can you come in here for a little while?"

"Why?"

"The water heater went out, Ivy thinks. It's leaked all over the floor in the back of the building."

I took a step or two over to look thru the swinging doors at the back. I didn't want Ivy to overhear any of the

conversation.

"Ivy's kind of flipped out," I said. "She doesn't have anybody to call for help, or advice or anything. Will you come in, Bri?"

There was moment or so where he must have been thinking, and then he said, "Yeah. Alright. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay. I'll tell her. Thanks."

"Yep," he said, and hung up.

When I went back to where Ivy was again, the carpet was starting to bubble up, where the water was gathering

underneath.

"Brian's going to come," I told Ivy, and she looked relieved, despite all her previous protests.

"That's so nice," she said.

After that, she said she thought we should take the carpet up, since it was so wet already. So she found a hammer,

and a screwdriver, and between the two of us, we untacked the edges, and began rolling the sodden carpet up.

The phone began to ring, and she went to answer it, while I continued trying to roll the carpet up. My jeans were soaked

and I ended up just taking off my shoes and wet socks, and tossing them to a corner.

The back door opened, and I turned to see Brian there, and I paused, resting on my knees. I could see Crane outside,

backing up the old farm truck to the door.

"Hi," I said, looking up at Brian.

"Hey." Brian stepped inside, and went directly over to the water heater, crouching down to examine it.

"Where's Ivy?" he asked me.

"Up front, answering the phone."

Crane was out of the truck, and dropping the tailgate, pulling a toolbox out.

"Hi, Crane," I said, as he came in.

"Hey, peanut." He went over to join Brian at the water heater.

I got to my feet, and walked over to where they were. They were discussing things. Like how the rust must have worn thru

the tank.

"Hi, guys," Ivy said, coming up to stand there as well. "Thank you so much for coming in here."

"No problem," Crane said.

"What's the verdict, do you think?" Ivy asked them.

Brian repeated the part about how the rust must have eaten thru the metal tank, and that's why it was leaking

all over the floor.

"Oh, gosh," Ivy said, her forehead wrinkling in worry.

"They're not supposed to rust out," Brian told her. "But, they still do sometimes."

"Can it be fixed? Repaired somehow?" Ivy asked.

Brian shook his head. "There's no way to repair it. It'll have to be replaced."

"Oh," Ivy said. "How much is a new one, do you know?"

"A couple of hundred dollars for sure," Brian said.

"Where do I get one?" she asked then.

"Baker at the hardware store here might be able to order you one in," Crane said.

"Oh." Ivy stood there, looking as though she was thinking hard.

"Is that what you want to do?" Crane asked her.

After Ivy said yes, Crane offered to go with her to the store, while she talked to Mr. Baker, and after they left,

Brian and I finished rolling up the carpet. By the time we were finished, I was tuckered out, and I collapsed on the rolled

up piles of carpeting.

Brian, meanwhile, got a chair and turned it around, straddling it backwards. He took out his pocket knife and began to shave

at a piece of wood.

"What are you sittin' on that for?" Brian asked me.

"I'm already soaked and itchy," I told him. "It won't matter now." But, I got up and went to get a chair, turning it backwards

just like Brian had, and sat down, facing him.

I leaned forward, and folded my arms on the back of the chair. After a few moments of silence, I said, "There's a petition

going around the county. To get Ivy to resign."

Brian continued with his whittling, not raising his head. "I heard about that."

"You did?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"What do you think about it?" I asked him, then. I was curious to hear his reaction. I mean, I knew that he liked Ivy, and

I was fairly certain that he thought she was a good veterinarian.

"It's their right, if they want to start a petition like that," he said. I found that a very unsatisfactory answer. I mean, I knew he

was right, and all, but still.

"I know it's their right," I said, feeling impatient. "But, I'm asking what you think about it."

Brian looked up, and met my eyes. "I think it's bullshit," he said then.

Ah. Now, that was more like it.

"That's good," I said.

Brian raised an eyebrow at me in question. "What's good?"

"That you think it's bullshit," I said, feeling satisfied. "I knew you felt that way. That you think Ivy's qualified

to be the vet for the area. Why can't some of these idiots around here think the way you do about her?"

"I don't think any of them doubt she's qualified," Brian said. "That degree hanging on her office wall makes her qualified."

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"I believe they feel there's a difference between bein' qualified to do a job, and bein' capable of doing it," he said.

"Because she's a female," I said, in resignation. "Right?"

"Right."

"You don't think that though," I said, with certainty. I wasn't asking him. I was stating what I believed of him.

"No. I don't think that," he verified.

"You know what I think?" I asked, smiling at him.

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm going to make you a special dessert when I get home."

7


	11. Pepe's Departure

When Crane and Ivy got back from the hardware store, where Ivy had ordered a new water heater, then he and Brian moved

the old one out.

They wrestled it around, and ended up loading it into the back of the farm truck, so Crane could take it to the dump.

After that, Ivy made a pot of coffee, and handed out cups to Crane, and Brian and to me, too. Even though I was hot

and sticky, I took the coffee. And, I enjoyed it, too. I'd rolled up the legs of my jeans almost to my knees.

Crane found a shop broom, one of those really big ones, and began to sweep out the water that had accumulated

where the carpet had been. He swept it out the double back doors. I went to look for the second shop broom that I knew was

around somewhere.

I had no idea how late it had gotten until Brian told me that I ought to be heading for home.

"How come?" I asked, pausing in my search for the second broom.

"It's goin' on five o'clock. You've got chores. And homework, too, right?"

"Yeah," I admitted. "But, I want to stay and help finish up here."

"You've done more than your share, Harlie," Ivy spoke up.

"I don't mind, though," I said.

"Get goin' on home," Brian said, as he and Crane began lifting the ruined carpet and loading it into the back of the

truck as well. "Let everybody know Crane and I will be along after we go by the dump."

"Okay," I said, reluctantly. I went to gather my backpack and came back to tell Ivy goodbye.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ivy," I told her.

"Right." She gave me a smile. "Thanks for calling these guys in here," she said gesturing to Brian and Crane.

"I knew they'd help," I said, feeling proud as both of the guys came in just to hear us talking.

"Heroes of the day," Ivy said, with another dazzling smile at them.

As I was driving home a few minutes later, I thought to myself that if I didn't know better, I would have said

that Ivy was flirting with Crane. Just a bit.

7

When I got home, the family was sitting down to supper. I went to report to everybody that Crane and Brian

would be home soon, and then went upstairs. I was going to take a shower to wash off the itch from the carpeting, but

I didn't have a chance.

Guthrie was hollering up the stairs for me to come back down. That Zack Brady was here. I pulled on a pair of

shorts and a t shirt, leaving my wet and dirty clothes in a heap on my bedroom floor. I'd forgotten about Zack

coming over.

Zack was standing on the front porch, Guthrie and Adam both there with him.

"Zack's here to look at Pepe," I said to Adam.

Adam nodded. "Good."

"Come on, Zach," I said, and he followed me across the yard, and to the hutch. I put on gloves, and got Pepe out of the

cage. After I held him for a few minutes, I looked at Zach, who was mostly just standing there, and grinning at me.

"What do you want to know about him?" I asked. "Like I told you earlier, he's descented, and he's at least three years old."

"Well, what's he like to eat?" Zach asked.

"He'll eat cat food, and fruit. In the wild, they eat mice and rabbits sometimes. But, if you give him fruit and cat food, he'll be

happy."

"Yeah. Okay," Zach said.

"Here," I said, stepping closer. "Do you want to hold him?"

Zach took Pepe, and I showed him how Pepe liked to be held. Pepe began to make his anxious sound, and I

told Zach to hold him a little closer. After that I explained about all the different sounds that a skunk can make.

Then, I got down to what I considered the serious business of Pepe.

"Where would you have him stay?" I asked. "He's used to being inside, with people. In his last two homes, he

had the run of the house."

"I don't think my mom would like that much. I could keep him in my bedroom, though."

"That would be good," I said. I was thinking that anything would be better for Pepe than this hutch he was in now.

It was while we were standing there that Crane and Brian got home.

Zach, still holding Pepe, said, "You coming to the football game Friday night?"

"I don't know. Maybe," I said.

"I'm starting with the varsity," he said.

"That's good," I said. Pepe was still making a sort of his anxious sounds, and I said, "You can talk to him and stuff. He likes that. That

way he'll get to know your voice."

Zach rubbed Pepe's head. "It feels kind of dumb. Talking to a skunk," he said.

I felt my first misgivings then. To me, it just seemed natural to talk to animals. Even a skunk. I gave Zach a decidedly

displeased look.

"It's not dumb," I told him.

"Well, it feels dumb," he defended.

"Why do you want him?" I demanded.

"Huh?" he asked, looking confused.

"Why do you want Pepe? A skunk's a sort of unusual pet. I just want to make sure you know what you're doing."

Zach's easy smile faded a bit. "Well, you want a home for him, don't you? You put up all those posters about him."

"I want a home for him. I just want to make sure it's a good one," I said, with spirit.

"I'll be a good home for him, Harlie, I swear," he said, and grinned at me again.

For a moment, and just a weak moment, mind you, I just enjoyed looking at his face. There was no doubt he was handsome, that

was for certain. Not that I was interested in him in that way. He was just nice to look at, that was all.

"Okay," I said, and after that I gathered up some cat food to send with Zach for Pepe, since they didn't have any cats at

their house.

I loaned him one of our animal carriers to get Pepe home in, telling him he could give it back to me after he had gotten

something for Pepe to sleep in, and told him that Pepe would use a litter box.

As Zack was leaving, he brought up the Friday football game to me again.

"You could meet me after the game's over," he said. "We can go to the Dari Kurl."

"I don't know," I said, non-committedly. "I'll see."

Standing beside Zach's car, as he loaded the carrier with Pepe inside into the passenger front seat, I found it

was a little difficult to see Pepe go. Still, when Zach waved goodbye cheerily to me as he drove down the driveway, I thought

that Pepe would be so, so much better off with a human that let him live inside. And surely, I thought, Zach would start

talking to Pepe. Surely, he would.

7

By the time I went back into the house, and pulled off my shoes by the front door, my stomach was rumbling with

hunger. It was after six by now. Nearly six-thirty. I couldn't help feeling a bit triumphant. Wait until Adam heard that I'd found Pepe

a home!

Adam, reading the newspaper, from his spot on the couch, looked up as I came in.

"How'd it go?" he asked me.

"Yeah. Did you unload Stinky on poor Zach?" Guthrie piped up, from where he was laying, on the opposite couch.

"Poor Zach, my foot," I scoffed at Guthrie, pausing and giving his hair a tug. "He's lucky to have such a great pet as Pepe. Don't call

him Stinky."

Guthrie snorted, and I turned to Adam, to answer his question.

"It went good, I think," I said.

"He has a place for the skunk?" Adam asked, lowering his newspaper.

"Yeah. He says he can stay in his bedroom."

"Well, that's good," Adam said. "Right?"

"Right."

"Looks like your idea of the posters around town was a good one, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"You'd better get to your supper," he told me then.

I went to eat. They'd left the food out for me, and I heaped my plate with meatloaf and corn, and two rolls, and heated

it up in the microwave. I sat down to eat, reading thru my phycology notes at the same time.

Crane came in the back door, and went to the sink, washing his hands. He turned to look at me.

"Need any help with your math?" he asked me.

"Maybe. I haven't gotten to it yet," I told him. I looked up from my notes and my food, to watch him.

"Thank you for coming today. To help Ivy," I told him.

"No problem. That's what friends are for."

I regarded Crane thoughtfully, wondering if the instinct that I had about a spark between him and Ivy was on target, or not.

"Do you know about the petition, too?" I asked. "The one trying to get Ivy to resign?"

"Yeah, I know about it."

"Do you think a lot of people will sign it?" I asked.

"I don't know. I hope not."

"She says that the ranchers that don't like her could make things unpleasant for her," I shared.

"That's probably right."

"How, though?" I asked.

"They could boycott her services. Call in vets from other areas. Get their neighbors and friends to do the same."

"Oh." I considered that. "I don't think Ivy has a lot of money. Not like Doc G. I mean, not that he acted like he had

a lot of money. He didn't. It's just-"

"I know what you mean," Crane said. "Doc G was older, more established. More confident in his abilities. Ivy likely has alot

of college loan debt, and things. She hasn't had the opportunity to build up her clientele, or her confidence."

That made me stop and think again for a moment. If I did well in college and vet school, and didn't have to retake classes

or anything, then the money that Doc G had left me should help keep me from having student loan debt.

But, in other ways, I was thinking if Ivy's present could possibly be my future. Would I face discrimination and doubt

from people because I was a female, when I became a vet? I'd always sort of hoped that I could practice right here, in this area. Around Murphys.

And, too, in a manner of immature thinking, I'd always figured that because I was a "home town girl", that I'd be welcomed

with open arms by ranchers in the area.

I stood up, taking my plate to the sink.

"Do you think I'll have to face the same thing?" I asked Crane.

Crane was drying his hands on a dishtowel, and he looked at me thoughtfully. "It's possible."

I would have said more, but he said, "I'm going up to change my shirt before I leave. Get your math out, so you can see if

you have any questions before I go."

I wanted to ask him where he was going, but I managed not to do it. He'd likely just tell me I was being nosy, or whatever.

7

"


	12. Andthe return

When I went to the vet office the next afternoon, I found the door locked. I'd assumed that Ivy might have left her truck out back. I took

the key from under the heavy ceramic basset hound, and opened the door.

Inside, it smelled musty. I opened some windows, and looked around to see if Ivy had left me a note. Not finding one, I tidied up the office,

and was headed out back to check on the two horses that Ivy was tending to.

I left the double back doors open, to let fresh air inside. The dampness from the wet carpet and all from the day before was still hanging in the air.

I took the two horses out of the stalls in the old building out back, and staked them out in the grass. While I went to work cleaning out the

stalls, and replacing fresh hay, I listened to the old transistor radio that Doc G had always kept out there.

I was trying to think while I worked. I'd gotten back an anatomy quiz earlier and had gotten a high D on it. Now, that in itself would not be

any big deal. Except that I was not in an ordinary way of things.

Firstly, the quiz had been a surprise on Monday. So I was unprepared. We'd gotten new notes and information on Friday, and I hadn't

reviewed it over the weekend, being as busy as I was.

Secondly, I'd gotten a C on a test the week before in that class, so when I'd asked Mr. Fornelli about it, he told me I had a 75 percent

at the time. An A or a B on either the test or the quiz would have put me into security, and I might have had a B in the class, but combining the

two low grades together, well, that didn't work so well.

I had to keep my grade point average up, or I wouldn't be able to stay in the job program. And then, the family would think I couldn't

handle everything. I'd wanted to prove that I could. Not to mention the fact that I didn't want to have to give up my job with Ivy. It would

be utterly humiliating to have to go back to being at school the full day, and be out of the program.

I'd asked Mr. Fornelli, (who was really a very nice man), if I could do some extra credit or something, but he'd just told me to do better on

my next quiz, or test, and continue turning in my homework, and that my grade would be fine by report card time.

I sighed, just thinking about it. I couldn't have a low grade at progress reports, either. I just couldn't. And progress reports were

only about two weeks away, due to come out between now and report card time.

7

I was finished up, and was set on returning the two horses back into the clean stalls, when I heard somebody calling to me.

I stepped out of the building, a halter from one of the horses in my hand.

"Hi, Nanc," I greeted her.

"Hey, wild child."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"I saw your truck out front, and I just thought I'd stop and say hello."

"Oh. Well, hello," I said, with humor.

"Are you about finished up here?" she asked me then.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Three-forty," she said, with a glance at her watch.

"I've got a few more minutes. Until four. Why?"

"I thought we might go to Marie's, and talk for awhile. I'll even buy you a Coke."

"Aren't you coming over for supper tonight?" I asked her. Nancy had taken to coming out to the ranch three or four nights a week

to eat supper with all of us.

"Not tonight. I've got some wedding stuff I need to do."

"Oh." I considered. "Well, okay. Sure. I'll call home and tell Hannah."

"Great. Anything I can do to help you finish up?"

"No. I just have to close all the windows and lock up."

After we went inside, Nancy helped me close windows, and I gave Hannah a quick call. I locked up, replaced the key, and we walked over to the café.

We'd been sitting there, and the new waitress, Judy, had brought us our drinks. Nancy had asked me if I wanted a piece of pie, but

I shook my head.

"I better not," I said.

"Oh, golly, I forgot," Nancy said, referring to my diabetes. "I have wedding 'on the brain' right now."

"It's okay. I just like to save my splurges for something I really want."

Nancy regarded me with what seemed like admiration. "It must be tough, being a teenager and having diabetes. You really

handle it well."

"Not so well sometimes," I admitted. "I get really tired of it."

"I can imagine."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. "So tell me. What's up with the wedding planning?"

That was all I needed to say. Six words. And, Nancy was off and running. Or talking, rather. Non-stop, with excitement, about

the wedding.

"I think we've settled on the 23rd of October for the date," she said.

Only a month away? Or five weeks, it was, I realized. That seemed really, really soon to me. I mean, I knew how much work it was going to be,

getting the house ready and all.

"That's great," I settled for answering. I mean, I was excited, too. You couldn't be around Nancy right now, and not feel her excitement.

After that Nancy talked about her dress, which was what her own mother had worn when she married Nancy's father.

"Wow, that's awesome," I said. For the first time, I wondered about my mom's wedding dress. I tried to think back to the journal entries.

Had she talked about a special wedding dress? And if so, where was it now?

It was just hard to think of Evan being a married man. I mean, he's just Evan, you know? I didn't voice that thought, though. I didn't want

to say anything to dim that sparkle in Nancy's eyes.

"Anyway, I'm only going to have two girls stand up with me," Nancy was saying. "Kelly Gillam as my maid of honor, for sure.

And, at first I was going to ask Deidre. But, now, I've been thinking. Would you be my other bridesmaid?"

I was sort of surprised, I had to admit. I mean, Nancy is one of those type of girls that's friends with lots of different people.

When Clare had asked me to be her maid of honor when she married Brian, I'd been thrilled, but not very surprised, really. I mean,

it was because of me that Clare and Brian had met to begin with, and Clare gave me full credit for that.

But, this, with Nancy, was a bit of a surprise.

"You look stunned," she said, with a grin. "What do you think?"

"Well, sure," I agreed. "If you want me to."

"I want you to. You're Evan's only sister. Well, besides Hannah of course, and Clare-" Nancy gave me a scattered look. "See? I'm in 'wedding brain'

again! I meant-"

"I know what you meant," I said, and she smiled at me.

"Not to mention the fact that I think of you as a sister already," she said.

"Me, too," I said, smiling back.

"And Evan will be thrilled when I tell him," she said.

"You think so?" I asked, teasing.

"Of course I do." She paused, fiddling with her straw wrapper.

"With Evan and I," I hesitated, "Well, it's always been sort of complicated between us."

"I know," she said. "But, you and him, you're solid now. Don't you think so?"

I nodded, glad that I could answer truthfully. "Yeah. I think we are. I mean, sometimes he's hard on me, though."

"I know that, too," she agreed. "But, whenever he does his whole 'trail boss' thing on you, just remember that he truly does

adore you."

"He'll deny that," I said.

"Well, it's the truth, just the same," Nancy said.

We finished up, and Nancy paid the check for the two of us.

We were walking back to the veterinary office, where our car and truck were parked, when there was a honking behind us.

"Who's that?" Nancy asked me.

"Zach," I said, as Zach pulled over to the curb and parked. "The one that took Pepe."

"I've gotta talk to you, Harlie," Zach said, without any other greeting, as he walked around his truck to where Nancy and I

stood.

"Hey, I'll see you later, alright?" Nancy told me.

I told her goodbye, and turned back to Zach.

"How's Pepe?" I asked.

"The skunk's great. He's just fine," Zach said, sounding ominous.

"What's wrong?" I asked, feeling anxious.

"He bit my little sister. That's what's wrong."

I stared up at Zach, aghast. "Pepe doesn't bite," I denied. "He never has-"

"Well, he did now. He bit Ashton's finger."

"Well, what was she doing to him?" I pointed out. "Maybe she was being too rough or something-"

"I dunno know what she was doing!" he said, sounding irritated. "I wasn't there when it happened. I got home from

football practice and my mom told me. So, you gotta take the skunk back."

My heart sank. I mean, I didn't want Pepe to be in a home where he was going to get teased or poked at by a little kid, but

I also knew how hard it was going to be to find him another home.

"How old is your sister?" I asked. "Maybe I could talk to her, and teach her about how to act around Pepe, and what to do-"

"She's eight. And, that's no good. My mom says the skunk has to go."

I was trying to formulate my thoughts, and my words, and ideas on how to resolve this mess, when Zach said, impatiently,

"He's in the truck. I was gonna head over to your house with him, when I saw you walking just now. So, come on, and I'll

load him up in your truck. I've still got your carrier."

He began walking to his truck again, and I stood there, on the sidewalk, contemplating the horribleness of this situation.

I was going to talk some more, coax some more, but I could sense there was no use.

Still, I said, one last time, "Maybe your mom will calm down, huh? I mean, Pepe's really gentle-"

"She won't calm down. I tried talking to her," Zach denied. He paused beside the front of his truck, looking at me.

"I'm real sorry, Harlie. I am. But, you gotta take him back."

I felt my face getting warm in temper. And frustration.

"Fine," I snapped, and began walking towards the vet office. Zach got in his truck and drove on, passing me as I stalked along the

sidewalk. He parked in front of the office, and already had the carrier, with Pepe inside, in his hand, waiting when I walked up.

I took the carrier from him without a word.

"I'll do it for you," he offered.

"I can do it myself," I said shortly.

"Look, Harlie, you hadn't ought to be mad at me," he protested. "Maybe he shouldn't be in a home with people. Maybe you ought to

release him into the wild or somethin'."

I gave Zach a scathing look. "Pepe's never been in the wild, Zach. He's domesticated. He wouldn't have any idea what to do

on his own!" I turned away, and pulled open my passenger door, setting the carrier on the seat. "You're an idiot," I muttered under

my breath.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

I shut the door, and turned to him. "I said, you. are. an. idiot," I said, specifying each word.

"Oh, yeah?" he countered.

I rolled my eyes, and went to head around to the driver's side of my truck.

"You know what? Forget about Friday night," he said. "Forget about meetin' up with me after the football game. I'll ask another girl. One who

doesn't think it's normal to talk to skunks!"

I got in behind the steering wheel, and slammed my door, looking across the cab at where he stood, leaning into the passenger window.

"I'd already forgotten about Friday night," I told him. "Now, you might want to move, or I'll drive over your toes."

As I drove, too quickly, out of Murphys, I was wondering how I was going to break the news at home that Pepe had

returned.

7


	13. Helping hands in the rain

I drove up our driveway really slowly. I still hadn't thought of how I was going to handle this Pepe situation. I was considering just announcing

bluntly, with no fanfare, that Zach had decided he could not take care of Pepe. That would lead to the obvious question of 'why'?

I thought I could say that his mother took a dislike to him, or something like that. I mean, technically, that wasn't a lie, right?

Zach's mother certainly wasn't fond of Pepe now.

If I told the rest of the complete truth, that being the fact that Pepe had bitten Zach's sister, then Adam would think he'd been right all along

about Pepe. It's not like he would act righteous or anything. I knew better than that. It wouldn't be an 'I told you so' type of thing.

But, he would feel justified in what he'd thought of Pepe, and he might even refuse to let Pepe stay at all this time.

And, yet, to not tell him the whole truth, would be like lying. And, even though I knew that, I couldn't seem to get past

the thought that it would just be best to say as little as possible, and throw myself into finding a home for Pepe. A _real home._

Not some so-called home, like Zach.

7

I parked over closer to the barn than usual, so I could be less likely to be seen, putting Pepe back into his cage beside the barn.

I didn't see anybody nearby outside, and I made quick work of reinstalling Pepe into the hutch. I didn't take time to put on gloves, even.

Pepe began to make his anxious sounds, and it was hard to close the wire door, and walk away. I thought he must be so confused as

to what was going on.

I quickly got some cat food, and refilled his food dish, and then said, "I'll be back soon, I promise."

I could hear Pepe's anxious sounds all the way around the front of the barn. And that was hard, let me tell you. I had to harden myself to

it, in order to keep walking, and not go back again.

A few drops of rain had begun to sprinkle here and there, intermittently, and then stop. The sky was gray. Just like how I felt.

I went inside, taking my backpack, full of papers and books. I slid it off my shoulder, and set it on the end of the couch. I went to find

Hannah, figuring I would start with her.

There was steaming pots cooking on the stovetop, but I didn't stop to lift the lids to see what was inside. I stepped outside the back door,

when I caught sight of Hannah, taking clothes off of the clothesline. I went outside, and began to help, working from the other end of the

clothesline.

"Hey, there," Hannah greeted me, as we worked our way to the middle of the line.

"Hi."

"How was your day?"

"Eventful," I said.

"Eventful good, or eventful bad?" Hannah asked.

I added the shirts and tiny-Isaac clothes to the basket setting on the ground.

"Both, I guess," I said.

"Sounds interesting," Hannah said. "I thought I'd better get these off the line. I can't tell if this rain is going to blow over or

hit hard any minute."

I shot a look at the sky. "I think it's setting in."

As she said that, the drops began to drop harder and faster. We went into the back door, with Hannah carrying the basket.

Hannah set it on the table, and went to begin lifting the lids off the pans on the stove, stirring.

"So," she said, returning to the previous topic, "How was Nancy?"

"Good. Excited about all the wedding planning."

"She sure is," Hannah agreed.

I went to the sink, and began washing my hands. "She asked me to be her bridesmaid."

Hannah flicked her gaze to me. "She did? That's terrific."

She sprinkled salt over the green beans in one of the pans, and said, "We'll need to find out about what sort of dress she wants you to

wear. Color and all of that."

"Uh huh." I paused, drying my hands, and then went to take down plates from the cabinet.

"Hannah?" I began casually.

"Hmm?" she asked, her back to me, as she stirred.

"Zach gave Pepe back."

Hannah turned, looking shocked. "After one day? What in the world happened?"

I began to walk around the table, laying a plate at each chair. "He said his mom told him Pepe couldn't stay."

"Why didn't he get her permission first?" Hannah asked, sounding aggravated.

"I think he did. She changed her mind."

"Well-" Hannah hesitated. "Where is he now? Pepe, I mean."

"In the hutch by the barn."

Hannah sighed. "Oh, boy."

We exchanged a long look between us, as we could hear voices approaching from just outside the back door.

"I don't know how to tell Adam," I confessed, in a low tone.

"Let him have his supper first," Hannah said, just as quietly. "And then you can tell him."

"Okay," I said, feeling grateful to her for her support.

I was quiet during supper, and my thoughts were all over the place.

Amid all the other conversations that were taking place, Crane asked, "How're the grades looking for you two?"

I stayed still, letting Guthrie answer first. "I'm doing alright. All B's."

"Good. How about you, peanut?" he asked.

"I think I'll have a good progress report," I said, choosing my words carefully. After all, I did plan on my grades being higher

by the time the progress reports came home.

"Good," he said, and smiled at me.

When supper was finishing up, I got up and started helping to clear the table. The kitchen cleared out a bit, until there was

only Hannah and I, sitting in our places, and Adam, sitting at his end of the table. And Guthrie, who was starting the

washing of the dishes. I was on the dishwashing chart with him for tonight.

"Come on, Har," Guthrie ordered. "Hurry up."

"Just a minute," I said

I'd exchanged a couple of glances with Hannah, and I didn't think they were noticeable, until Adam spoke up.

"What's going on with the two of you?" he asked, with a slight smile at both Hannah and I.

Hannah gave me an encouraging nod.

"Zach gave Pepe back," I said, flatly, not trying to 'pretty it up'.

Adam shook his head slightly. "That must be some sort of record," he said dryly. "One darn day."

I didn't say anything. There was nothing to say.

"You bring him back home?" Adam asked then.

"Yeah."

"Well," Adam said, with a sigh, "I guess there's not much to be done about it. Except start lookin' for another home again."

I couldn't believe how mildly he was taking it! This was great!

"I'll start trying, right away," I promised.

A clap of thunder shook the house, and a couple moments later, the back door opened, and Brian and Clare, followed by

Evan, came in, wet from the rain.

"It's setting in to be a real gully-washer out there," Brian said, taking off his ball cap.

As they all started talking off their boots at the door, I got up, and went to start helping Guthrie with the dishes. Things were

in a hubbub, a whirl of noisy activity for a few minutes, as the kitchen filled with people. It settled down for a bit, and Guthrie and

I were finishing the dishes in relative quiet.

When we were alone, he asked me why Zach had given Pepe back.

I told him, making sure I was talking really low, so no one could overhear.

Guthrie whistled in answer. "Uh oh," he said.

"She was probably doing something to Pepe," I said, referring to Zach's sister. "Little brat."

"Maybe so," Guthrie agreed. "Well, how bad was the bite? I mean, did it break the skin?"

"I don't know. I didn't ask," I said, and then I paused in my drying of the dishes. Now, I had another entire worry to

consume my brain. What if had been a bad bite? One that Zach's mother felt a doctor needed to examine it?

Depending on her anger about it all, this could be far from over.

"What if she takes her to the doctor?" I asked Guthrie, in a whisper.

"She probably should," Guthrie answered, not understanding what I was getting at. "I mean, you know?"

"That's not what I mean," I said, impatiently. "What if she does, and she wants us to pay for the doctor bill, or something?"

"Oh," Guthrie said, and looked as though he was considering. "Yeah. That could happen, I guess."

"Great," I said, tossing down the dishtowel, and running my hands thru my hair.

"Don't get all bent," Guthrie advised. His way of saying 'don't worry'.

"I don't want to tell Adam about Pepe biting, but now I'm afraid not to tell him," I said.

"Is he up to date on his shots?" Guthrie asked, and then nudged me, with a slight grin, "The skunk, I mean. Not Adam."

"Yes, he's up to date on them," I said, not smiling back. I couldn't bring myself to be amused by anything right then.

"Likely nothin' will come of it," Guthrie said, trying to make me feel better.

"With my sorry luck?" I countered, sitting down at the table, and putting my head in my hands. "Of course something will

come of it."

"Well, then, go on and tell Adam about all of it," Guthrie suggested. "You might feel better then."

"Yeah, maybe." I raised my head again, and said, "Thanks, Guth."

"I didn't do anything."

"You listened. And you're trying to help," I told him.

"Well, you've listened to me plenty of times," he said.

Another clap of thunder rang out. "Wow," Guthrie said, going to the back door to peer outside.

"I just thought of something," I said, jumping up quickly. I went to grab at the first rain slicker I could get my hands on, hanging

on the hook on the mud porch. I sat down on the bench there, pulling on a pair of my old tennis shoes.

"What's the matter?" Guthrie demanded.

"The roof on the hutch," I said. "It's not that good. I've got to put a tarp or something over it. Pepe will be soaked already."

I was pulling on the over-sized slicker, and heading out the door, and Guthrie was saying, "Wait up a minute. I'll help ya."

"I'll go look for the tarp," I said, going on out. I ran thru the rain, to the barn. Inside, I pulled the switch to turn on

one of the hanging lights. I began to search thru the shelves and on top of the feed sacks for the familiar gray tarp.

When Guthrie appeared at the door of the barn, I still hadn't found the tarp.

"Where is it?" I said, in frustration.

"It's here somewhere," Guthrie said calmly.

The rain began to pelt down even harder, and I felt myself tense up. "Poor Pepe," I said.

"There's one in the truck. I know that for sure," Guthrie said. "I'll grab it."

"Okay," I said, and we went back out into the fierce weather at the same time. Guthrie went off toward where the farm

truck was parked, and I went to the hutch. Pepe was making high, anxious sounds, but there was no point in taking him out

to comfort him. I would need to help Guthrie with the tarp when he brought it. Guthrie came on the run, and without a word,

we began to work together to get the tarp over the top of the hutch. We each took an end and shook it out to full size, and then

started laying it over the top. The wind and rain kept whipping it off, and twice I let my end of it go, when it got away from me.

"Bat shit!" I swore.

Guthrie was tying down his end, and hollered over the wind, "Tie your end down!"

I struggled with the zip ties, working them thru the wire of the side of the hutch. A burst of wind took it from me yet again, and

when I'd wrapped my hand around it, and was struggling again, a hand was there, taking it from me.

"I've got this one," Brian said, and with an efficiency that I envied, he had the tarp tied.

I saw Adam on the other end, helping Guthrie.

Just as they were finishing, I saw that rain was still streaming into the hutch. "It's leaking!" I said.

The four of us paused, and looked, and there, nearly in the center of the tarp, was a cantaloupe-sized hole.

"When the hell did that happen?" Adam asked, to nobody in particular.

"This is no good," I said, over the wind. "We have to put another one over this one. He'll get soaked."

"We couldn't find the other one," Guthrie told Adam and Brian.

"This weather looks like it's set in for the night," Brian said.

"Move it into the barn," Adam said, and without any real talking, the three of them hefted the hutch, and took it

to the barn, and inside.

They set it down against the wall, and we could all hear Pepe's protests at this whole situation.

"There. At least it's dry in here," Adam said.

I began to take the wet tarp off. There was no need to leave it on now.

Guthrie was shaking his wet hair as if he were a dog. "Dang," he said.

"He going to be alright now?" Adam asked me, quietly.

"Yeah. I think so. It's lots better for him here in the barn," I said, looking at him. "Thank you guys for helping."

I went to get the cat food sack, to refill Pepe's food dish.

"I must be gettin' old," Brian said. "I'm feelin' a chill in the air."

"It's supposed to get cool tonight," Adam told him.

They all began to head out of the barn. "Feed him, and then come inside," Adam told me, pausing at the door. "You need

to get out of those wet socks and shoes."

"I'll be right in," I said.

Guthrie and Brian went on, and Adam started out, then paused again, turning back. "Those blankets in there are probably

wet, aren't they?" he asked me, talking about the blankets that Pepe had in his cage.

"Yeah," I said, looking at him, as I walked past with the cat food.

"There ought to be plenty in the rag pile to choose from," he said. "Get some dry ones out of there for him."

I felt a squeezing in my heart. Adam was being so kind. Trying to make things better for Pepe, even though he

didn't particularly welcome him.

"Okay. I will," I said.

"Alright. Well, you come in as soon as you do that," he said.

"I will."

Adam went on, then, and I finished what I needed to do for Pepe. I was shivering from that same chill that Brian had

mentioned.

I was thinking longingly of a hot shower, and my fuzzy pajamas. And some hot cocoa would be the finishing touch.

7

I got my shower, and there was, amazingly enough, some hot water left. I did get into my fuzzy p.j.'s, with the

horses running across them. I pulled on a pair of socks, too, and went down the back stairs, thinking that I would get

a snack before I started my homework.

Brian was at the stove, his shirt sleeves rolled up, and he was making hot cocoa.

"Yum," I said, going to stand next to him. "How did you know I was thinking of your cocoa?"

"You know what they say about great minds," he said, in bantering reply.

"You get Petree all settled, did you?" he asked then.

"Pepe. Not Petree," I told him, and he grinned at me.

"When is it going to be ready?" I asked, peering into the saucepan.

"You can't hurry perfection, peach. Don't you know that?"

7

I had two cups of Brian's cocoa. He had to make a second batch because nearly everybody wanted some. Guthrie and I did our

homework in the living room, with the rest of the family sitting around. It was one of those times that I was appreciating my family.

Everybody had been nice about Pepe's return. Much nicer than I'd expected. And then Guthrie, Adam and Brian had

come out in the rain to help with Pepe's shelter. I really, I thought, had a pretty nice family.

I looked up from my anatomy notes, as Adam glanced up and met my eyes. He smiled at me, and then went back to

bouncing Isaac on his knee, making the baby squeal with laughter.

That's when I decided I was going to tell him the whole truth about Pepe's return.

7


	14. Understanding and a call

I was done with my homework, and finishing the last remnants of my cup of hot chocolate. I was curled up on the couch, with my feet

tucked under me, sitting next to Crane. I was feeling warm, and cozy, and contented.

I caught a glimpse of what Crane was reading so intently. It was some sort of graph chart thing, having to do with the Mustangs.

Statistics, and all of that.

Part of me was really happy about that. He hadn't forgotten.

I leaned closer. "Doing research?" I asked him.

"Just studying up a little," he said.

"Do you think we could take a ride up there sometime soon?" I asked.

"I think we probably can," Crane said, without looking up from his reading.

"I'd like to see how the burros are doing, too."

"Well, we'll pick a day, and then we'll go." Still, without looking up, he said, "Time for you to be getting to bed."

It was nearly ten. I was usually in bed and asleep on weeknights by this time. School, and then working at the vet office wore

me out. And, Guthrie had gone up thirty or so minutes earlier to bed.

So, Crane was right. But, I didn't move. I was waiting for the opportune time to talk to Adam.

When I didn't move, or answer, Crane let a few moments pass by, and then he said, "Harlie. Bed."

"Okay," I said, and reluctantly unfolded my legs. "Goodnight."

"Night, peanut," he said, still without ever looking up.

It seemed everybody was preparing to go to bed. Brian was coming thru from the kitchen, where he turned out the

lights. He paused, then, and said, "Did you do your shot yet, peach?"

"Not yet," I said.

Brian stepped back and switched on the kitchen light again for me. "Don't forget to turn the light off when you're done," he said.

"I won't."

Brian passed by, said goodnight to Crane, and headed up the stairs.

I went to the kitchen, and did my shot. I put everything away again, and got a glass of milk. I went up the back staircase, pausing

at the top. The door to Adam and Hannah's bedroom was slightly ajar. I could see the light shining out into the hallway, and when I walked

closer, I could hear their voices, talking quietly.

I stood just outside, and then rapped once, quietly. Adam pulled the half-open door completely open. He was still in his jeans and

denim shirt, though he'd taken his boots off. Hannah was sitting on the edge of the bed, in her nightgown. Isaac was sleeping in his crib,

on his stomach, with his rump up in the air.

"Hey, sugar," he said. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I am. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute about something."

"Oh. Alright." He looked at me expectantly. "Do you want to talk in here?"

"Yeah. If it won't bother Isaac."

"Once he's asleep, he's out," Hannah said.

I came on into the room, and went to sit beside Hannah on the bed. Adam, meanwhile, stood where he was, untucking his shirt

from his jeans.

"What's up?" he asked.

I sat up straight, and folded my hands together. "It's about Pepe," I began.

"Okay."

"Zach said his mother said he had to give Pepe back to me because Pepe bit his sister."

"Oh, no," Hannah said, low. So low that I wasn't even certain that Adam could hear her.

Adam was quiet for a long, long few moments. I could nearly see the wheels of thought turning inside his mind.

"He bit her finger," I finished up. "She's seven, so I'm thinking she was probably teasing him or something."

"Hmmm," Adam said. I wasn't sure just what that meant, so I was quiet.

"How bad was the bite?" Hannah asked.

"I don't know. Zach didn't say. And I didn't think to ask."

Adam was looking so serious that I said, quickly, "Pepe's not really used to little kids like that. And, she was probably pulling his

tail, or poking him, or something like that."

"You don't know that for sure, though," Adam said.

"Well, no," I admitted. "But, Pepe's never bitten anybody before. Terrence would know about something like that if it had

happened."

"He's up to date on his shots, though, isn't he?" Hannah asked me, and I knew she was trying to soothe the situation.

"Yes. He is."

I waited, looking at Adam's serious expression, trying to determine if he was going from serious to stern.

"Well," he said, finally, "Nothing to be done about it now. Just make it a priority to find him a home."

I was so relieved that that was all he was going to say about it, that I let out a deep breath. "Okay."

"And the wearing of the gloves, at all times, that still stands," Adam said. "Understood?"

I nodded. "Understood."

"Okay," he said.

Hannah squeezed my hand, and I gave her a quick hug, and stood up. I went to him, and gave him a tight hug.

"Thank you," I said, looking up at him.

"What is it you're thanking me for, exactly?" he asked, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"For not going ballistic," I answered honestly. "And for helping to move the hutch to a dry place for him."

"Well, I figure going 'ballistic', as you put it, wouldn't help at this particular time. And, he's not going to do any harm, being

in the barn."

"Thank you, just the same," I said.

"One question," he said, looping his arms over my shoulders.

"What?"

"Why tell me now? Why not earlier, at the supper table, when you told me about his return?"

I hesitated, and then, "I guess I had to sort of 'come around' to the fact that I should tell you," I admitted. "And, I keep remembering

what you told me, that night we went camping."

Adam nodded, and said, "Well, I'm glad that you 'came around' to it."

I squeezed him again, and he kissed the top of my head. "Get on to bed," he said. "No reading."

7

Friday morning, early, Guthrie and I were going around gathering our things up for school. I was still eating a piece of

cinnamon toast, when the phone began ringing. Guthrie got to it first, mainly because I was trying to find my anatomy worksheet.

I was sure I'd left it on the table the evening before.

When Guthrie said, 'Hey!' in a glad way, I started paying more attention. He started asking things then, and I could tell

by the questions that it was Daniel.

I went over, and made an impatient motion to Guthrie, to show that I wanted the phone.

"It's Daniel," Guthrie said. Unnecessarily.

"I know. Let me talk."

"I'm still talking," Guthrie protested.

He kept on talking, and I got more impatient. Crane came into the living room, and I said, "It's Daniel."

"It is?" Crane asked, and he looked glad, too.

"Let me talk, Guthrie, before it's time to leave," I said.

"Alright, alright," Guthrie said, and said, "Hey, Daniel, talk to ya later. The hyena's having a fit."

I snatched the phone from him, and said, "Hi, Daniel!"

"Hey, brat, what's new?"

"What's new with you?" I asked, instead of answering.

"Work. You know. Staying crazy busy."

"How's Red?" I asked.

"He's good. He says hello to everybody."

By now, Hannah was coming from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

"Everybody wants to talk to you," I said.

"I guess it wasn't such a great time to call, huh? Everybody's headin' out for the day."

"It's fine."

There was so much I wanted to say, to talk about, but I had to leave soon or I would be tardy. And, besides, I could tell both Hannah

and Crane were itching to get their hands on the receiver.

"How's your work thing? The program thru school?" Daniel asked.

"It's good." I felt somehow detached somehow. Disappointed. It was definitely an unsatisfying conversation.

"I have to go," I said. "It's time to leave for school."

"Okay. Well, study hard," he said, jokingly.

"Okay. Here's Hannah," I said.

"Hold up a minute, squirt," he said, and I pressed the receiver back to my ear.

"What?" I asked.

"I love ya," he said, and I thought I heard something like regret in his voice.

And, then, I sort of turned away, just a bit. I felt as though I was going to start crying, of all things. Good grief. Ridiculous.

"Love you, too," I managed.

"I'll call again, soon as I can, alright? And we can talk longer. I wanna hear about how that good-lookin' vet is doing."

I said okay, and we said goodbye, and I handed the phone off to Hannah. I gathered up my stuff, and my backpack, and

went out to the front porch. Adam was there, talking to Guthrie.

"Daniel's on the phone," I told him.

"That's what I hear. Both of you, have a good day," Adam said, just like he always did.

"See ya," Guthrie told him. "See ya at school," he said to me, and then he was gone.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder more securely. "It sucks," I said. "Daniel being so far away."

Adam gave a brief nod of understanding. "I agree. Sometimes it really does suck."

7


	15. Fix up for Ford

At school, we had another quiz in anatomy. A surprise quiz. I was beginning to wonder what Mr. Fornelli got out of doing that. I mean,

seriously? I'd done my homework the night before, and so I knew some of the answers on the quiz. But, not all.

I didn't feel very confident when I turned it in.

When Bill approached me at lunchtime, at the table I was sharing with Lori and Chelsea, and asked to talk to me, I

went to dump my tray, and walked with him to the front steps of the school building.

"I know it's short notice, and all, but I was wondering if you wanted to go out tomorrow. My dad said I could borrow his car, and

we could see a movie, if you want."

I hesitated. "I'd like to. It sounds fun. How would you feel about sort of a group date thing? Guthrie and Kristin, and maybe

Trent and Lori?"

"Sure. That'd be alright."

We talked for a few more minutes, and I had a sudden thought. "What about your sister?" I asked him. "She could come, too, if she

wanted."

"That's nice of you," Bill said, sounding uncertain. "But, I don't know if Lissy will want to go. She's still sort of shying away

from people. I don't know if I can get her to listen to me-"

"I can invite her," I offered. "If you want me to."

"That'd be great. She hasn't got a date, though. I mean, she hasn't dated anybody since we've been here-"

I had another sudden inspiration. "What about my brother?" I asked him.

Bill looked confused. "I thought Guthrie was going out with Kristin?"

"I don't mean Guthrie. My brother Ford, he'll be home this weekend from college."

"I don't remember which one he is," Bill said. "That day this summer I was at your house, there were so many people." He looked

embarrassed. "I mean-"

"It's okay," I told him. "I know what you mean. There are an awful lot of us. It sort of runs together in your head. He's the one

with blond hair. He's almost 21. Is that too old for Felicity?"

"Lissy's eighteen. It's not that. I just don't know if she'll want to go."

"I'll ask her. If she seems as though she'd want to, then I'll ask Ford to call her."

"Will he do that?" Bill asked, looking a bit surprised. "I mean, go out with somebody he doesn't know? Just because you

ask him to?"

For just a moment, I hesitated. Ford would do it, I was fairly sure. If I approached him right.

"I think he will," I said.

"Great. I'll call you later, and see what Lissy said, and what your brother said." He paused, looking regretful. "I'm not saying to be

dishonest, Harlie, but do you have to tell Ford about Lissy having the baby last year?"

He looked so stricken that I felt sorry for him.

"It's just-if you don't have to, since it's just a casual date and all, well, I'd appreciate it," he said.

"I won't say anything," I promised.

Before I left to go to work at Ivy's I saw Felicity gathering books for her next class. I approached her and

said, "Hi," in a friendly way.

She looked a little startled, as though her thoughts had been far away. "Hi."

"I'm Harlie-" I began.

"Yes. I know. Bill talks about you."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I haven't said welcome to Murphys, to you." I smiled at her.

"Thanks."

"There are a bunch of us going to the movies tomorrow night," I said. "Bill asked me, and my brother Guthrie, and Kristin. Do

you know them?"

"Guthrie's in my English class," Felicity said.

"Oh. Well, them and maybe another of my friends, Lori and her boyfriend, Trent, might go. I was wondering if you'd like to

go along with us."

Felicity gave me a direct look. Very, very direct. "Did Billy ask you to ask me?"

Billy? I figured that must a nickname, like Bill called her Lissy.

"No. It was my idea," I said, and then tried another smile on her. "Scout's honor."

Felicity reached for a book at the bottom of her locker. "I don't think so. But, thanks."

"My brother Ford is coming home from college for the weekend," I went on. I was determined to convince her, if I could. "He's in his

second year at college. I was thinking that he might come, too."

Felicity looked as though she was shocked into silence.

"Ford's tall, not too tall," I rattled on. "He's got blond hair, and he's really nice. He's quiet until he gets to know somebody, but

he's lots of fun-"

"I don't date," Felicity said, shutting her locker.

"Well, this wouldn't be a date, exactly," I said, trying to put her at her ease. "It's just a movie or something with some friends."

Felicity was quiet, and I seized my opportunity. "Ford doesn't date much, either," I said. "He's sort of shy."

For the first time, I saw a flicker of interest in her eyes.

"Please think about it," I said.

"Maybe he wouldn't want to go out with me," Felicity said, sounding uncertain.

"Oh, I know he will," I insisted.

"Well," she hesitated.

I zoomed in for the final round. "I can have him call you tonight," I said. "It might be around seven by the time he gets home. Then you

can talk to him, and decide if you want to go out with him."

By the time I walked out of the school building, I had Felicity convinced to at least talk to Ford.

7

I got to the vet office on time, and followed the sounds of voices thru the building and outside. Dale DeHoff was there, his

big rig parked right up to the barn. Ivy was inside the trailer, trying to calm a mare inside down.

I went to the back of the trailer, pausing. "Can I help?" I asked Ivy, quietly, so as not to add to the mare's distress.

"You can get a stall open," Ivy said, sounding breathless.

I said okay, and ran to do that, moving out one of the horses that Ivy was boarding, and tethering him in the field.

After that, I went back again. Ivy was still talking in the same gentle tone to the mare, who kept thrashing around.

"I'll have to sedate her," Ivy said, looking towards Dale.

He gave a brief nod, and Ivy stepped down out of the trailer. "I'll be right back," she said.

She went towards the building, to gather supplies, and I stepped up into the trailer, running my hand over the

mare's rump.

"Best to stay out of there," Dale told me, in his customary gruff way.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked, instead of answering, remembering to speak louder so Dale could hear me.

"Snake bit," Dale said, shortly.

"What kind of snake?" I asked.

"If I knew that, missy, then I might have been able to tend to it myself," Dale snapped.

I had a sudden thought as to whether Dale had been born mean.

The mare gave a sudden twist, which caused me to fall back against the side of the trailer. It didn't hurt. At least, not much.

Dale came up near the back of the trailer. "You get on out of there now," he commanded.

I'd been planning to step out anyway, but I didn't appreciate him trying to boss me. Crotchety old man.

"I don't need Brian McFadden takin' a piece of my ear, chewing me out for you gettin' hurt," Dale said.

"Brian wouldn't blame you for anything," I said.

"What'd you say?" he demanded.

"I said, Brian wouldn't blame you for anything," I repeated, louder this time.

Dale gave a loud guffaw. "So you say."

"He wouldn't," I said stubbornly.

"I don't know why he, or Adam either one, allow you do this sort of thing," Dale said. "A girl ought to be workin' at the grocery, or

such a place."

Well, that riled me!

"A female can do just as well as a male in the veterinary business," I said. "And Doc G would have said the same thing!"

"Garrett indulged you, that's a fact," Dale responded.

Indulged me! Well, maybe Doc G had done that, just a bit. But, I knew that I'd done a good job for him, too. He never

would have kept working with me if he hadn't thought so.

"At least Doc G was in this century," I said, my temper flashing. "Unlike certain others!" I wondered if my veiled insult would be lost to Dale, but

he raised a bushy eyebrow at me, and said, "You're a feisty one, miss. You've got Brian's temper, as well."

"Good," I said, and stepped away before I said anything more.

7

Ivy sedated the mare, and treated the snake bite. Ivy was inside the stall, and had the mare tied. I stood just outside,

leaning over to hand her things as she needed. Dale, meanwhile, stood on the other side, and thankfully, he was quiet for the

most part.

Ivy cleaned the bite, which was on the mare's nose, and showed me the fang marks at the center of the swelling. The mare's eyelids and

nose were swollen. She seemed to be having difficulty breathing.

Ivy kept talking calmly and quietly, as she worked. "The nose is the most common area for a horse to be bitten by a snake," she told

me.

"Do you give antibiotics?" I asked her.

"Yes."

"So, you know it was a poisonous snake, then?" I asked.

"Yes. If it wasn't, it wouldn't be this swollen."

I watched Ivy work, and I was filled with admiration.

7

By the time I left the office, I was really tired. And, if I was to admit it, my hip where I had fallen into the side of the trailer,

fell sore and bruised. It hurt way more now than it had when it had happened.

I parked my truck, in the row beside Guthrie's and Evan's. I gathered up my school stuff, and my clothes that needed washing. I had

my arms loaded down when I trudged up the front steps. Just in time for Crane to swing the door open for me.

"Hey," he greeted me. "Got quite a load there. How was your day?"

"Good," I said. I could tell by the way he was dressed that he was going out somewhere. "Where are you going?"

"Out to dinner," he said.

I paused, looking him over. "With Cindy?"

"Yeah."

"That's good. You look really handsome."

"Well, thank you."

"Tell her hello from me," I said.

"Will do."

I went inside and dumped all my stuff on the corner of a couch. I could hear voices, as usual from the kitchen,

and went to find Clare with flour on her cheek, and rolling up a pie crust. Hannah was sitting at the table, holding Isaac

while he drank a bottle.

"Hi, toots," Clare greeted me.

"Hi," I said.

"How was work?" Hannah asked.

"Good. We treated a horse's snake bite."

"Wow," Hannah said, and both she and Clare looked suitably impressed.

"I think a bunch of us are going to the movies tomorrow," I said, in conversation. "Guthrie and Kristin, Lori and Trent-"

"And you and Bill?" Clare asked, with a grin.

"Yes," I said, smiling back.

"And maybe Bill's sister, Felicity," I added.

"That's a pretty name," Hannah said.

"Uh huh," I said, going to drop a kiss on Isaac's forehead. I headed to the sink to wash my hands. "She's a senior." I filled a glass

of water, and stood, drinking it.

"I was thinking it would be nice if Ford went, too," I said.

"Oh?" Hannah asked, and I could tell she knew exactly what I was getting at.

"Uh huh," I said again.

"How did that idea come about?" Hannah asked, and I knew she was trying to ask in a polite way, if Felicity couldn't get

a date or something.

"She's beautiful," I said. "She's just had a hard time making friends here, is all. I thought it would be nice."

Now it was Hannah who said, "Uh huh," in a knowing way.

"I don't think Ford will mind," I said.

"I guess you'll find out, hmm?" Hannah said.

7

I asked Hannah if I could soak in her bathtub, and she told me to feel free.

"Help yourself to the bubble bath," she called after me, as I headed up the back stairs.

Instead of bubble bath, I poured a generous dose of Epsom Salts into the water. Before I climbed in, I got a look

in the full length mirror at my lower back. There was already a bruise there. Nice and big. And lots of colors.

I soaked for awhile, and then got out, pulling on my shorts and t shirt. I was standing in front of the mirror

again, still looking at the bruise, when there was a light tap on the door.

"Harlie?" came Clare's voice. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," I said, turning as she came in. I turned to face her, so she wouldn't wonder what I was looking at.

She was carrying Isaac, who was sleeping. She laid him in his crib, and then stepped over to me.

"How was the bath?" she asked me.

"Good."

"Uh huh. What were you looking at?" she asked.

Before I could answer, or deny, she gave me a little gentle push to turn me, and lifted the back of my shirt.

"That's a nice one," she said, looking at the bruise. "What happened?"

"I fell against the side of a trailer."

"Hmm," she said, and began poking gently at the area around the bruise.

"Ow," I protested. "It's fine, Clare. Really."

Clare dropped my shirt again, and gave me a steady look.

"I soaked in Epsom Salts," I told her. "No worries."

"It's a pretty deep bruise," she said. "We'll keep an eye on it."

There was a holler from downstairs that Ford was home.

7


	16. Plea bargain

When it was my turn to greet Ford, after working my way thru the others that wanted to do the same, I gave him a

hard hug.

"I brought Captain Jack," he told me. "Like I promised I would."

"Cool," I said. "Is he out in the truck?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get him," I said. "I know you want to have a snack. You're always starving when you get home."

I went outside to collect Captain Jack, talking to him as I walked inside, carrying the huge cage. He was ominously quiet,

peering at me.

Inside the house again, I cleared off the coffee table, and set the cage down.

Ford hadn't made it to the kitchen for his snack yet. Hannah still had him in her clutches. She turned to me, and said,

"Harlie, don't put him there."

"He wants to be where he can see everybody," I protested.

"Well, just for a while then," she said.

"I was thinking we'd grill out," Hannah was telling Ford. "Hamburgers?"

"Sounds great," Ford said, with enthusiasm.

"Who's going to do it?" I asked. "Crane left."

"Crane's the expert griller, alright," Hannah agreed. "But we should be able to manage some hamburgers between

the rest of this group."

The small group of Hannah, Ford, Clare, Guthrie and I sojourned to the kitchen.

"Just eat a little something now," Hannah told Ford. "You don't want to ruin your appetite for supper."

"No chance of that," Ford said, with a grin.

Hannah set about gathering up ham and cheese, and cutting up tomatoes for Ford to have a sandwich.

Ford leaned against the counter, and Guthrie hoisted himself up to sit on the counter beside the sink.

They were all talking about Ford's classes and all of that, and I slipped outside to feed the goats, and the barn cats,

and to check on Pepe. I put my gloves on, and held him just briefly.

I was doing that, when I was surprised by Ford coming into the barn.

"Hey. How'd you get away from Hannah?" I asked him.

"She got busy stirring up some macaroni salad," Ford said.

"Oh."

"How come the skunk's in here?" Ford asked.

"When it was raining the other night, we moved him in here."

Ford reached out and ran his fingers over Pepe's back. "How's he doing?" he asked. "No home for him yet, huh?"

I told Ford about Zach taking, and then returning Pepe within a day.

"That's too bad," Ford said.

I gave Pepe a last stroke, and put him back into the cage. I took off the gloves, and went to fill his dish with cat food.

I gave Ford a casual glance as I did that.

"I thought I'd stir up some lemon bars later," I said. "After the kitchen clears out from supper."

"Yeah?" Ford asked, with a grin.

"Yeah. If you'd be interested, that is."

"Oh, I'd be interested," Ford said.

I finished putting the cat food in Pepe's dish, and said, again casually, "What are you gonna do this weekend?"

"Nothin'. Sleep. And eat."

I fastened Pepe's cage door. "I was wondering if you might want to do something."

"With you?"

"Well, yeah," I said, slowly.

"Sure. Want to go riding?" he asked.

"Riding would be good," I agreed. "I was actually thinking about the movies, though."

"I suppose I could spring for the movies, and buy you some pizza," Ford said.

"Bill asked me to go to the movies," I said, still casually.

"Well, why are you askin' me, then?" Ford asked with a grin. "Need a chaperone or something?"

"Not exactly," I said, looking up at him.

Ford stopped smiling. "What are you tryin' to get at, Har?"

"Well, Guthrie and Kristin, and Bill and I, and maybe Lori and Trent were going to go to the movies. And, Bill has

a sister. Her name is Felicity. She's a senior, and she's-"

"Har-" Ford interrupted, with a groan.

"What?" I asked, innocently.

"You know what."

"She's eighteen," I said. "It's not as though she's some really young high school girl. She's-well she's had

a hard time making friends around here-"

"Why?"

"What?"

"I said, 'why'?" Ford said, sounding impatient. "What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing is wrong with her," I said, sounding indignant. "She's very, very nice."

Ford was giving me the 'eye'. The 'I don't want any part of this stuff' sort of eye.

"She's beautiful," I added. "Like model-type beautiful."

His expression didn't change at my statement.

"I don't go out with people I don't know, Har. You know that." His tone was firm.

"Well, I know you don't generally do that," I said, emphasizing the word 'generally'.

"Not generally. And not now," he said.

"Please, Ford?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist. "This is sort of a special case type of thing. I wouldn't

ask you if I didn't think it would be alright."

Ford remained silent, not returning my hug.

"Felicity, that's her name-"

"You said that already," Ford said.

"Okay. Well, she-" I hesitated, "She's sort of shy. Not shy, exactly. She just has a hard time

getting to know new people. She hasn't done much of anything since they've been here. I mean, she hasn't gone out

much, or anything."

He was still just looking at me. Silent.

"She's quiet, Ford. She's not one of those 'show-off' loud sort of girls. And she is really pretty."

"Looks don't matter, Har. You know that."

To most guys, looks do matter. But, not to Ford. I squeezed him a little tighter.

"I think she needs some friends, Ford," I said, hoping that would sway him.

He was still quiet.

"Will you do it for me?" I asked, resorting to my last card. "As a personal favor?"

He sighed, raising his eyes heavenward. "I suppose," he said.

"Thank you!"

"Okay. But, I want lemon bars."

"A double batch," I promised.

"And, don't do this again. Don't volunteer me for stuff-"

"I promise, I promise!" I said, and hugged him again.

7


	17. Scuffle, not muffled

I gave Ford the phone number to call Felicity. He took it from me, gave it a brief glance, and then shoved it into the

front pocket of his jeans.

"When are you going to call?" I asked.

"After awhile," he said, and I had to settle for that. At least at the moment. I stirred up a double batch of lemon bars, and

put them in the oven. Evan was manning the barbeque grill, flipping hamburgers, out in the backyard.

In the kitchen Clare and Hannah were getting everything else ready for the meal. Macaroni salad, cottage cheese, fried apples,

and all of that.

We ate outside at the picnic table and then spilling over to lawn chairs. I ate, and then listened to the conversations

going on around me. Watching Ford. To see if he was going to get up and go to the telephone, when he was finished eating.

Guthrie was putting in his two cents on the situation. "She seems like a nice girl," he was saying to Ford.

"I hope so," Ford said, and then added, "It's just for tonight. A favor to Harlie."

Hannah gave me a 'mom' type of look. "It's very nice of you to do this, Ford," she said.

"What's this all about?" Brian spoke up, from his spot beside Clare at the picnic table.

"Harlie's roped Ford into going out with a girl from school," Evan volunteered.

Brian gave me a somewhat disapproving look. "Oh, yeah?"

I got up and began clearing up paper plates and assorted used napkins. "I didn't 'rope' him into anything, Ev," I said,

haughtily. "You don't even know anything about it."

"Well, excuse me," Evan said.

I gave him a quick glance. He didn't look mad, or anything. Still, I said, "I didn't mean to snap at you. But, I didn't rope

him into anything. Ford is perfectly capable of saying no if he had wanted to."

"To you?" Evan hooted, stressing the word 'you'. "Yeah, right. Ford couldn't say no to you if his life depended on it."

I shot a Ford a silent glance, imploring him to jump in and help me.

"It's fine," Ford said. "For tonight." The way he said 'for tonight' made it perfectly plain that he considered it a one-shot.

"How old is this girl?" Brian asked, and the frown on his face bespoke of his thoughts of a fourteen or fifteen year old girl.

"She's eighteen," I said. "It's not like she's an infant."

"Yeah, Ford," Evan tossed in, with a wicked grin at Ford. "No diaper duty."

I was sorry that I'd apologized to Evan a moment before. He was being a jerk. I wished that Nancy was there, to give him an elbow

to his ribs and shut him up.

"Fixin' other people up with blind dates isn't the best idea," Brian said, still looking disapprovingly at me.

I stopped what I was doing, paper plates in my hand. "I know of at least one time that it was for sure a good idea," I said, giving

Brian a rather pointed look at Clare.

Clare laughed a little. "She has you there, Brian."

"I'll admit to that one," Brian said, smiling a little.

I'd made my point about Clare alright, but I was still feeling snappish. Hannah, and Evan and Brian, too, they all acted as though I was

holding a gun on Ford, forcing him to do this.

"Good grief," I muttered, grabbing another handful of stuff to take inside. "I didn't commit a crime, for Pete's sake. You all act as though

I robbed a bank or something."

Adam, who up until now, had remained silent during the conversation, said quietly, "Harlie."

I flicked a glance his way. I knew just what he meant by that 'Harlie'. Calm down. Don't overreact. Don't say things you shouldn't. All of that.

"Well, I didn't," I said, and took my armload of stuff towards the back door.

Just as I was opening the back door, the burro set up a commotion in the pasture. I held the door, looking out towards him. He was rolling on

his back in the grass, back and forth, and then he would stand up, shake his head, and bray. Then back down he went, rolling some more.

I went inside to throw the stuff away, just as phone began ringing.

I ran to the living room to pick it up.

After I'd said hello, a familiar voice responded, "Hullo, Harlie!"

"Hi, Kenny!" I said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. Ready to get out of this place and get back home. Is Guthrie around?"

"Yeah, I'll hurry," I promised, and laid the phone down. I knew Kenny would only have a matter of minutes to talk.

I went to the back door, pushing open the screen, and hollered for Guthrie.

"It's Kenny!"

"Okay," Guthrie said, and got up, sprinting towards the house. He rushed past me, and after that, everybody else started coming

inside, too.

"Not that many dishes to do," Hannah said, with satisfaction.

"Let's take a walk," Adam told her.

"I'll put Isaac in his stroller," Hannah said.

"Leave him," Clare was saying. "I'll give him his bath."

Hannah told her thank you, and she and Adam disappeared. Evan, who'd been carrying Isaac inside, handed him off to Clare.

"Gotta go meet up with Nancy," he said, to nobody in particular, and then he was gone, too. Clare headed upstairs to bathe Isaac.

That left the rest of us to start tidying up the kitchen. I felt as though I'd done my share, but Brian was shaking out a giant trash bag,

and holding it open, and he said, "Start tossin' stuff in here, peach," to me.

I was helping do that, while keeping an eye on Ford. He didn't seem to be in any particular hurry to get to the telephone. He was helping clean up, and cutting

himself a couple of the lemon bars that I'd finished earlier.

"Here, Guthrie," Brian was saying then. "Go on and take this trash out."

Guthrie took the bag from Brian, shoved a lemon bar into his mouth with the other hand, and went out the back door.

By the time I ran a cloth over the counters, everything was fairly well cleaned up. Now, Ford was pouring himself a glass of milk

to go with his lemon bars.

I wished that Brian would leave the room. I was preparing to get onto Ford, and start pushing him to call Felicity, but I didn't want to

do it in front of Brian. That would just earn me more lectures from him.

Brian, however, also seemed to be in no hurry. He was making coffee now.

"Are they good?" I asked Ford, pointing at the lemon bar in his hand.

"They're great. Thanks, Har."

"You're welcome," I said, and waited, hoping he would take the hint. He didn't.

"Are you going to call soon?" I finally asked. I said it quietly, hoping Brian wouldn't take notice.

"After a bit," Ford said.

"It's six-thirty now," I protested. I knew I'd told Felicity that it might be seven or so when Ford called her, but I felt like if I

didn't push and prod him, that he might not do it until much later.

"I know what time it is," Ford said, sounding grumpy.

"I'm just pointing it out," I said.

"Leave Beans alone, peach," Brian ordered, without turning from the coffee pot, and calling Ford by his nickname that only Brian called him.

"I'm not bothering him," I protested.

"Yeah. You are. Quit," Brian said shortly.

I heaved a sigh and said, "Grrr," under my breath.

"I'm going," Ford said, and headed off to the living room. "Don't come and try to listen, either," he warned me, without turning around.

"I do have some couth, you know," I hollered after him.

I could still hear my burro braying, and I went to the back door, looking out. "I think the Jack wants an apple," I said.

"When does he not want one?" Brian countered, and I turned to smile at him, my irritation at him passed.

"I know," I agreed. I looked back out again. "I think I'm just gonna call him Jack," I said. "I can't think of a really good name, and I'm used

to calling him the jack, anyway."

"Jack's as good a name as anything," Brian agreed, reaching for a coffee cup from the upper cabinet. "Although 'pain in the butt' would

be a good name, too."

"Funny, ha ha," I said.

"How're your grades?" he asked me then, and I was so startled that I turned to look at him, wide-eyed.

"What are you asking me that for?"

Brian set the coffee pot back down. "Am I not allowed to ask about your grades?" he countered, raising an eyebrow at me.

"It's just-" I hesitated, "Well, you never do. Or hardly, anyway."

"I guess I ought to do it way more often, then, if it's gonna get you all riled up," Brian said. I couldn't tell if he was joking

now, or not.

"It's not that, Bri," I said. "It's just-well Crane usually does that stuff."

"I know. I just thought I'd ask," he said, mildly.

"Oh. Well, they're okay, I guess. Some are better than others." I eyed him warily. "Is this conversation between us, or are you going

to tell Crane what I say?"

"Good God, Harlie," Brian said, sounding irritated. "You're prickly as a cactus tonight." He took a sip of coffee, looking at me over

the top of the cup.

"I am?" I asked. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

"You're darn snippy."

I felt my face get all warm. "Sorry," I said, quietly.

"I didn't know it was gonna cause a major thing by asking about your grades."

I hesitated. "Well, the trig is actually not so bad. At least not yet. I'm having more trouble in anatomy than I thought I would. It's

hard."

Brian nodded in response, leaning against the counter.

"I haven't done very well on a couple of quizzes," I admitted. "My progress report next week isn't gonna be so good, I don't think."

"Oh. Well, don't you have to keep up your grades? To stay with your job with Ivy?" Brian asked.

"Yeah," I said, and nibbled at my lip. "But, if my grades are good at the actual report card time, then that's what they look at. Not at

the progress reports. Those are just a sort of a warning thing. I've talked to my anatomy teacher already, and he said if I don't

mess up, then my report card should be okay."

Brian nodded in understanding. "Aw."

"I hope Crane doesn't flip out about them," I confided my concern. "The progress reports, I mean."

"Why don't you talk to him? Tell him what you just told me. That the reports coming next week may not be so good, but that

you think the actual report card will be alright," Brian suggested.

"That's a good idea," I admitted. "It's just that Crane gets all-" I hesitated, "Well, all intense about grades. He won't

even like it that I didn't ace my quizzes."

"He just wants you and Guthrie to do well, that's all," Brian said.

"I know." I sighed a little.

"Well, you decide what you want to do," Brian said, finishing his coffee and putting the cup in the sink. "I say talk to Crane

now about it all, but it's up to you."

I looked at Brian for a couple of moments then, sort of in a new light. He caught me at it, too.

"Why are you lookin' at me like that?" he asked me, with a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"You just sort of surprised me," I admitted.

"How so?"

"You're good at listening, and you gave me good advice, but then, you let me make up my own mind."

"Well, thank you, I think," he said, sounding skeptical.

"I mean it in a good way, Bri," I assured him. "You're always a good listener. It's just, instead of ordering me what

to do, you're telling me it's my decision."

"Well, it's that, alright. Just remember, Crane might wonder why you didn't give him a heads up, before that progress thing

shows up in the mail," Brian said.

"Yeah," I agreed, with a sigh. "I'll think about it. I promise."

7

I followed Brian to the living room shortly after that, and sat down beside him on the couch. He started reading

the newspaper, but I was trying to listen to Ford's side of the conversation with Felicity, without appearing to be listening.

Guthrie came in, too, but he was not quiet as he came in, and then he went to turn on the television, so I couldn't

hear Ford's words at all.

"Guthrie, turn that down," I ordered.

Guthrie had flopped down on the couch that sat opposite the tv, and ignored me.

"Guthrie!" I hissed at him, from where I sat beside Brian. "Turn it down."

"The sound's barely on as it is," Guthrie protested.

"Turn it down!"

"No."

I subsided, for the moment, and got up, going over to stand at the end of the couch that Guthrie was laying on.

I gave one of his bare feet a pinch, before he jerked it away.

I lunged for his other foot, and he said, "Har, quit it."

"You're being rude to Ford. He's trying to talk on the phone," I said, and went to the tv, turning down the sound.

"Darn it, Har," Guthrie snarled, getting up and coming over to turn the sound back up. Way up.

"Leave it down," I said, reaching for the knob again.

Guthrie refused to move his hand, and we started scuffling.

"Ford can't hear," I said, getting breathless from the tussle.

"Ford," Guthrie said, loudly, while still wrestling me around. "Talk louder! Hyena can't hear what you're sayin'

to Felicity!"

Now, I was embarrassed. What if Felicity had heard that?

"Guthrie, you jerk," I hissed, and after that, it was on. I gave up trying to hear Ford talk, and entered whole-heartedly into

my scuffle with Guthrie.

At first it was only half-serious. We hadn't had a physical go-around for a long, long time. Like I said, it was mostly

playing, at first. Both of us just horsing around, and blowing off steam.

In the midst of it, I knew Ford was off of the phone, because he was stepping around us.

Guthrie and I both eased back. He'd had me lifted off my feet, his arms around my waist, from behind. His arms were

squeezing my ribs until I could hardly breathe.

"Gosh darn it, Guthrie!" I squealed, trying to jab my elbow backwards into his stomach.

"You gonna leave me be?" he asked me.

"Put me down! Brian, tell him to put me down!"

"Put her down, Guth," Brian said. "Both of you, cool it."

Guthrie set me on my feet, and turned away. "Now, let me watch my show in peace," he told me.

I hopped onto his back, a trick I'd learned early on in my life, with a houseful of brothers. I wrapped my arms around his neck,

and he started trying to pry my fingers loose.

"Now, you're makin' me mad!" he told me.

"Oooo," I taunted. I had the upper hand now, perched on his back like that.

And then, with a suddenness that shocked me, though it shouldn't have, Guthrie hurled me onto the couch, and

had me pinned, sitting on my stomach, and pinning me down with his hands.

I began to struggle in full-out earnest.

"Let me up!"

"I told you to leave me be," Guthrie said, not sounding as though he was out of breath at all.

"I was just playing around! Turn me loose!" I struggled against his strong hold, but got nothing for my efforts but

more out of breath.

"I told you," Guthrie said, again.

"Alright! You told me!" I said. "Let me up!"

"That's enough," Brian said, and now he sounded mad.

"Yeah, both of you, go to neutral corners," Ford joked.

Guthrie let go, and I gave him a shove as I got up.

"Sleep with one eye open," I threatened, half-seriously.

"Yeah. Okay," Guthrie said, in apparent unconcern, flopping back down on the couch, in his original position.

I stood beside the couch for a minute, getting my breath back. Ford had gone to sit down opposite of Brian,

and I went over to sit down next to him.

"What did she say?" I demanded of Ford.

"She said she'd go to the movies," Ford said, calmly.

"What did you think of her?" I asked next. "I mean, how do you think she sounded?"

"She sounds nice," Ford said. "At least, she did, until I couldn't hear anymore because of you and Guthrie

acting like five year olds."

"More like two year olds," Brian said.

"Guthrie has no sense of humor," I accused, and then hollered over in Guthrie's direction, "And he was being rude, too!"

"Harlie," Brian said, and I flicked a glance at him.

"You need to stop needling Guthrie," Brian said.

"I was just joking around," I defended myself.

"Well, enough," Brian said. "You're disturbing my peaceful evening."

7


	18. Emotion overload

I stayed up late that night, even though I was tired. Guthrie, and Ford and I were hanging out together. We watched a movie,

stuffing ourselves with popcorn, and after that, we went outside where we played a game of HORSE. The pole light in the yard

put enough light onto the basketball goal that we could see to play.

And then, by the time Guthrie kicked Ford and I's butts at the game, he announced he was going up to bed.

I'd flopped down into the hammock, sweaty from the game.

"G'night," Guthrie said, heading into the back door.

"Night, Guth," Ford called after him.

"I'm tired," I moaned.

Ford gave me a shove. "Move over."

I moved just slightly, and Ford flopped down beside me in the hammock, causing it to swing.

For a long few minutes, we were both quiet, and just watched the stars popping out. After that, we pointed out different

formations to each other.

One minute, I was listening to Ford talk about what new words his friends at college were teaching Captain Jack, and

the next he was shaking me.

"Wake up, Har. Time to go to bed," he said.

"Bring me a blanket," I mumbled sleepily. "I'll sleep out here."

Ford finally roused me out of the hammock by threatening to upend me onto the ground. I knew he really wouldn't

have done it, though.

7

The next day was eventful, to say the least. I knew I should get some of my homework out of the way before Sunday. That way, it

wouldn't be so stressful to get it all done. I knew I should. I was still considering whether to do that, or not, while I

sat at the kitchen table beside Guthrie, eating our bowls of cold cereal. Guthrie was eating Fruit Loops, and I was eating

Cocoa Pebbles. I don't eat it a lot, because it's not the most healthy thing for me. But, it brought back all the Saturday mornings,

when Guthrie and I would watch cartoons and eat our cold cereal. Every single Saturday morning.

Everybody else had pretty much already eaten their breakfast, because both of us had slept a little later than

usual. Guthrie and I were talking about what time we would all be gathering that evening, to head to the movies.

I was feeling relaxed, and happy, and we were both finishing up, when the back door opened, and Clare came

rushing in, the screen flapping shut behind her. I mean, she was flat out moving.

Guthrie and I twisted in our chairs to look. She hadn't said a word. Just ran past. And up the back staircase.

"Wonder what's wrong?" Guthrie asked.

"I dunno," I said, feeling worried.

"Maybe you oughta go see," Guthrie suggested.

And then, Brian came bursting in, as well. He had on his ball cap and fencing gloves, and he, too, went up those

stairs faster than a jack rabbit. Guthrie and I exchanged glances.

"Maybe they had a fight," Guthrie guessed.

"I hope not," I said, more worried. Brian and Clare don't usually argue all that much, at least not where we all can see or hear them.

Clare's fairly mellow, and a sort of 'go with the flow' type of person. And Brian seems to have mellowed somewhat since they

got married. He's not as quick to fly off the handle.

"We better wait a little bit," I said.

I ran hot water in the sink, and poured in a generous amount of soap, to do just the few dishes that Guthrie and I had used, and

the assorted coffee cups that had been left setting around.

Guthrie got a dishtowel, and began drying as I washed. We were finished, and I was pulling the sink stopper, letting the water

drain out, when Brian came back down the stairs into the kitchen.

Guthrie and I both turned to look at him, watching as he went to the cabinet, where he pulled down yet another cup, and

poured himself coffee. I considered joking that he was using another cup, when we had just finished clearing all the others

up, but I thought better of it. He looked preoccupied, and sort of 'on edge'.

"Hey, Brian," Guthrie said, in greeting.

It was almost as though Brian saw us both there, for the first time. "Oh. Hey, kids," he said.

"Everything okay?" Guthrie asked him.

Instead of answering, Brian gave us both a full-on look. "What are you two doing? Just now gettin' up?"

"No," I said, injecting some humor into the situation. "We've been up for at least an hour."

"An hour, huh?" Brian said, returning his attention to the coffee in his cup.

Guthrie and I exchanged another concerned glance.

'Is everything okay?" I asked, echoing Guthrie's question.

"Everything's fine," Brian said, shortly.

"You sure?" Guthrie asked.

Brian's gaze swept to Guthrie, with a snap. "I said it was, didn't I?" His tone was terse, annoyed.

"Yeah, you did," Guthrie said.

'Well, then," Brian said.

"Is Clare okay?" I pressed on. "She came running in so fast-"

"You two have chores to do, don't you?" Brian asked then, only it wasn't a question.

I nodded, and Guthrie said, "Yeah."

"Then get to 'em," Brian ordered. He drank down the coffee in his cup, and poured another. I had the feeling watching him that

it seemed as though he was wishing the coffee was whiskey. He was acting as though he needed a stiff drink.

Guthrie looked at me, and shrugged. "See ya later," he said, and went out the back door.

I finished wiping the kitchen table where Guthrie had dribbled milk, still watching Brian covertly.

I wasn't all that slick at it, though, because Brian noticed me watching him, and said, "What, Harlie?" in an irritated

way.

"Nothing," I said, and laid the dishtowel by the sink, and heading out the back door.

7

I went to do my regular chores, and then found myself in the vicinity of Adam and Evan, helping to fetch and carry for

them while they stretched new wire around an area of the back pasture. It wasn't so hot there, because of all the shade trees,

but Evan complained, because working around the trees made it take that much longer.

Evan was talking to Adam during that time, about how he wasn't sure how living at Nancy's house in town was going to work

out. Apparently, Nancy's sister was separated from her husband, and was coming to stay for an indefinite amount of time, and, because of that, Nancy's father

was postponing his trip that he'd been planning after the wedding. In addition, the sister had three little kids, so the small house was going

to be more than full.

Which meant that Evan and Nancy wouldn't be having the house to themselves, as had been the original plan.

Evan was talking about finding a house in Murphys to rent instead, except the rental properties available in Murphys were

practically nonexistent. Adam was listening, looking thoughtful.

"Renting's an idea, alright," Adam said. "It would cost you considerable more than staying at Nancy's house, though, right?"

"Well, yeah," Evan admitted. "We were gonna pay her dad some help with the rent, and a portion of the utilities, but it would have

been cheaper to stay there. But, there's no point to pursuing renting somewhere else, if there's just nothing available."

"Can you swing a rental of your own, money-wise?" Adam asked then. "If something around here did open up?"

"It'd be tough," Evan said. He seemed discouraged. "It's just-we had our hearts set on having some time to ourselves, after the wedding,

when her dad went on his trip. And now, with her sister comin', well, it just throws all that out the window."

"Yeah," Adam said, pausing to stretch the kinks out of his back.

"I mean, I feel real bad for her sister and all," Evan said. "It sounds like she's had a tough time of it. It's just-" he hesitated.

"I know what you mean," Adam said, in understanding. "The timing of it all is really bad."

"Yeah," Evan said glumly.

"You know you and Nancy can stay here, at the house," Adam said. "It might be a tight squeeze,

but we could figure something out."

"Thanks," Evan said. "I mean, I thought about asking the family, what everybody would think about us staying here instead,

but I don't know."

"Right. It's not as though you'd get that much more privacy here, though," Adam pointed out.

"Well, it might be better here than at Nancy's," Evan said. "Those three kids of her sisters are little hellions."

"I'm not saying that I think you should do this," Adam cautioned, "But you could postpone the wedding, until the sister finds a place of

her own, or you two are able to find another rental house."

"I don't wanna do that," Evan said, stubbornly. "I mean, it's not fair to Nancy, and besides, we want to be married, you know? We

want to be together."

Adam rubbed Evan's shoulder. "I understand," he said.

I'd stayed quiet, mostly because the two of them had been talking freely together, as though I wasn't there. I didn't want

to interrupt, and make them stop talking. I felt sorry for Evan, and for Nancy, too. For all their plans to collapse like this.

"I felt the same way, too," Adam was saying. "All I could think of was marrying Hannah, and having her beside me, all the time."

Evan looked grateful at his understanding. "Yeah. That's it, exactly."

"Well," Adam said, with a grin, "If I could magically make another level to the house appear for you two, I would. But, I can't just snap

my fingers and do that, you know?"

"Oh man, you can't?" Evan quipped back. "I thought you could perform miracles, Adam."

"Not of that caliber," Adam said, and then they stopped talking about it for awhile, and went back to setting posts, and

stretching wire.

7

I was helping Evan pick up the fencing supplies later, and Guthrie had wondered over, too. Adam was still nearby,

as well, when I got what I thought was an incredibly good idea.

It was such a good idea, I felt, that I got more excited the longer I thought about it.

It was while I was handing Evan some tools so he could put them up on a higher shelf in the barn that I brought

it up.

"What about the line cabin?" I asked.

Evan flicked a glance at me. "Huh?" he asked.

"The line cabin. It could be fixed up. And then you and Nancy would have it to stay in, at least part of the time."

For a moment Evan's eyes sort of widened, but before he could say anything, Guthrie guffawed, "You're crazy, Har."

"Yeah. I've got to agree with Guthrie on that," Evan said.

"Why?" I demanded. "What's so crazy about it? It could be reinsulated, and a new floor could be put in-and there's

water there and everything-"

"It would cost like a million dollars to make that place livable," Guthrie went on. "I mean, it's fine for guys that want

to stay there, for hunting or whatever. But, Evan can't take Nancy there. Not to live." He shook his head at me. "You're crazy, hyena,"

he said again.

"Shut up, Guthrie," I said.

"I appreciate the thought, Har," Evan said, and he sort of smiled at me. Now, his voice was kind. "I do. But, I don't see

any way for it to work."

"Why not?" I demanded.

"Well," Evan hesitated, looking thoughtful.

"What won't work?" Adam said, walking up nearer to the three of us.

"Har has some crazy idea," Guthrie began.

I was so suddenly fed up with Guthrie's smart remarks that I turned and gave him a hard smack. As hard as I could. It caught

him across the side of his face, and over one ear. The part of his cheek that showed was bright red.

As soon as I did it, I was shocked by my own actions. Not as shocked as Guthrie, who was staring at me in disbelief. Or

Adam, who was looking at me as though I was a stranger.

"Damn it, Har," Guthrie muttered, still sounding shocked.

Adam stepped forward then, so quickly that I couldn't react. He caught me up, his hands on my upper arms, practically

lifting me off my feet.

"What's gotten into you?!" he demanded, angrily.

"I don't know!" I said, bursting into tears. "I'm sorry, Guthrie!"

"There's no excuse for that!" Adam raged on.

"I'm sorry!" I said, again.

"It's alright," Guthrie mumbled.

"No, it's not alright," Adam said. "Harlie, go to the house, and up to your room." He gave me a shake, and set me on my

feet again.

7


	19. Lowering the boom

I ran in the back door, and up the back stairs, and past Hannah, without saying a word. I was already ugly crying. Once at my bedroom,

I slammed the door closed, It wasn't that I really meant to slam it. But, what difference did it make now, anyway?

I sat down on my bed, gathering up my pillow to my chest, squeezing it. Holy macaroni!

It wasn't long, maybe ten minutes or so, when there was a very light rapping on my door. I knew it wasn't an

angry brother, because, well, it was too gentle of a knock.

The door opened just slightly, and Hannah stuck her head in. She looked worried.

"Harlie? What's wrong?" she asked.

I shook my head in answer.

Hannah came on in then, closing the door behind her, and coming over to sit beside me on my bed.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I smacked Guthrie," I said, low.

Hannah looked a bit confused. "You were joking around with him?"

"No. I hit him. Hard." I took a deep breath. "In his face."

Hannah looked conflicted. She wanted to be supportive of me, and the fact that I was so obviously upset, but, also,

she wanted to defend Guthrie, if need be.

"Were you arguing?" she asked then.

"No."

Hannah sighed a little. "Well, what happened then?"

"I was telling Evan an idea, about the line cabin, and Guthrie kept on-making comments and saying how dumb it was. I just-

reacted."

"Oh," Hannah said.

"I didn't mean to, Hannah! I mean, I did mean to do it, but I didn't plan it!" I tried to explain.

Hannah bit at her lip a little, looking thoughtful, as if she was studying on things.

"Well," she said, "You apologize to Guthrie, and I'm sure you two can work it out-"

"I did apologize to him," I said. "A couple of times, and he said it was alright, but Adam-" I paused, "Well, he's really

mad!"

"Adam was there?" Hannah asked, putting the pieces together.

"Yes!" I said.

"Oh," Hannah said, then, and I knew she was thinking that the situation was more dire than she'd suspected. "What did he say?"

"He told me-" I paused, thinking, "That there was no excuse for it, and to come up to my room. He was yelling."

Hannah was quiet for a couple of moments, and then she gave me leg a pat. "Well, you sit up here, then, and think about what

you want to say."

"He's not gonna let me say anything!" I protested.

"He might."

"No, he won't! He's just gonna break me in half!"

"Harlie," Hannah said, in mild disapproval.

"He is!"

Hannah stood up. "Do some of your homework while you're waiting, instead of just sitting here and stewing about it. Then, when he

comes up to talk to you, you'll be more calm."

A sudden thought occurred to me then. "He's for sure not going to let me go out tonight with Bill, and everybody! And after

getting Ford to call Felicity and everything-"

"Harlie," Hannah said again, and I paused. "That's not what you should be worried about. Think about what you want to say to Adam, and

then to Guthrie."

"Okay," I said. I mean, she was right and all that. Still, the evening ahead, and how I was sure Adam was going to yank it, made

the situation worse.

"Hannah?" I said, as she reached my door.

When she turned back, I said, "I know I'm not supposed to ask this, but, will you talk to him? Before he comes up here? See if you

can help me?"

"I'll talk to him," Hannah said. "No promises. But, I will talk to him."

"Thanks," I said.

When she'd gone, I sat there, feeling miserable for a few more minutes, and then I got up, going to my desk, and I started

on my anatomy homework.

7

It seemed like a long time that I was up in my room. But, according to my alarm clock, it was only an hour and a half, or so. I'd

finished my anatomy, and instead of doing trigonometry, I got out a sheet of notebook paper, and began writing something to

Guthrie.

It was sort of like an apology note, but more in depth that just a simple 'I'm sorry'. I didn't think Adam would be too impressed

by the fact that I'd written it, but it still made me feel better.

I could hear voices from downstairs, the mixing together of deep versus softer. I heard the phone ring a couple of times, too. Still,

nobody came upstairs. I mean, it wasn't as though I was anxious to have Adam appear at my doorway, or anything like that. I most

definitely was not.

But, the waiting. It's the worst.

I'd finished my note to Guthrie, and then started on my math homework. I got stuck fairly quickly, so I was really just

moving numbers around, and then erasing them again, when I heard more voices. Closer.

And then, there was scraping of boots, in the hallway outside of my door, and then a rapping. Stronger than Hannah's, but

not the banging of angriness, either. In between.

"Come in," I said.

When Adam came in, I wanted to look away, but I kept my eyes on his face. He closed the door, and then came over to

sit on the edge of my bed. I turned in my desk chair, to look at him.

For a couple of long moments, he just looked at me. Serious, but not ferocious.

"What's going on with you, Harlie?" he said, opening the conversation. His voice, though, was terse.

"I don't know," I said, honestly.

That irritated him, right off. He sighed heavily. "That's it? You've been sitting up here, supposed to be thinking, and that's

all you've got? You don't know?"

"I really don't know," I said. "I just reacted. I wasn't even that mad at Guthrie. Just irritated."

He studied me. "Well, that's not very reassuring. That you can react like that just because you're irritated with somebody."

My eyes filled up with stupid tears. I felt so bad. I mean, I was scared of what Adam was going to say, and all that, but I felt

really bad about Guthrie.

"I wouldn't want to ever hurt Guthrie," I said. "I mean, I know I hurt him when I hit him, but I mean, I wouldn't want to

really hurt him. Outside or inside. Guthrie's like-" I hesitated. "Like my best friend."

"I know he is," Adam acknowledged. "But, barring the fact that you nailed him one, don't you think you did hurt him

on the inside when you did that? He had to have been shocked by it. His feelings are hurt."

"I know," I said, crying harder.

After another moment's silence, Adam said, "Comere," to me.

I got up, walking the few steps to the bed.

"Grab your Kleenexes," he said, gesturing toward the box of Puffs on my nightstand.

I picked up the box, and he said, "Sit down here," with a sigh.

I sat down beside him, grabbing a handful of tissues, and mopping at my cheeks with them.

"This is not okay, Harlie," he said, sounding stern. "Irritated or not, it's not okay."

I nodded, miserable.

"You might like to know that your brother's been bending my ear for the last hour, telling me that he was yanking your chain

and that it's really his fault you cold-cocked him," Adam said.

I felt my heart clinch. Good old Guthrie. He always had my back.

"I don't really deserve Guthrie," I said.

Whether he agreed with that, or not, Adam didn't say. He just went on, giving me that look, sort of a cross between,

'I ought to kick your butt', and 'should I kick your butt?'

"You need to talk to Guthrie," Adam said.

"Yes," I said in agreement. "I wrote him something, but I'll talk to him, too."

"There's a lot of families, where a brother that's bigger and stronger, that was hit, like what you did, would

retaliate big time," Adam said.

"I know," I said. "Like Lori's brother. Or Kristen's."

"Right. Guthrie could have hit you back, and he could really hurt you. I don't think he would have, though, even I hadn't

been standing there."

I knew that was right, too. Guthrie might have put me on the ground, and pinned me, but if he had, the only thing he would

have hurt on me would have been my pride. Smacking me in the face isn't in him.

I nodded in agreement, and then just looked at Adam, in misery.

"I figure as you can do his chores for him," Adam said. "For the next week." And then he added, drily, "That might ease the pain in his face a little bit."

"Okay," I said, and waited. I knew he wasn't finished.

"I think you ought to stay home tonight," he said, then, and my heart sunk, even though I'd been expecting it. Then, with his next

comment, he had me surprised.

"But, since Ford's involved tonight, with Bill's sister, and all of that, I'm not gonna make you do that," he went on.

"Really?" I asked, shocked, and hopeful.

"Really. But tomorrow afternoon, after we get home from church, you're on room restriction, for the rest of the day and the evening. And,

that does not include Guthrie or Evan or anybody else bein' in here, playing a game with you or whatever."

"Okay," I said.

"You doing Guthrie's chores for him can start on Monday," Adam said.

"Okay," I said, again.

"Alright. It's nearly lunchtime now. You help Hannah with whatever she needs the rest of the day, before you get ready to go

out tonight."

I couldn't believe this! I nodded, feeling grateful. And humbled.

"I expect better from you, Harlie," Adam said, then, in his 'terrible' voice. "I don't want this to happen again, ever. Not with Guthrie, not with

anybody."

"Yes, sir," I said. "I promise." I felt tears welling up again.

"Alright," he said, getting to his feet. "Come on down, and get ready for lunch."

I stood up, too. "Do you know where Guthrie is?" I asked.

"Outside with his dog, when I headed up here. I don't know about right now."

"I'll go talk to him now," I said.

7

Downstairs the kitchen was filling up with McFaddens, washing up at the sink, filling glasses with sweet tea, talking and

moving around. All of that. No Guthrie, though.

I worked my way thru the crowd of family, going out the back door and looking around. Guthrie was near the orchard,

throwing a Frisbee to Jethro Bodine. As I walked over closer, I saw Jethro leap up and snatch the Frisbee from the air, bringing it

to Guthrie. Guthrie had taught that trick to him. He hadn't known how to do any tricks when we brought him home from the dog

rescue.

Guthrie saw me coming, and gave the Frisbee another toss. Then, as Jethro trotted after it, Guthrie turned towards me.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey."

I swallowed painfully. "I'm sorry for hitting you like that, Guth, honest, I am."

"Yeah. I know."

"I-don't know what's wrong with me."

Guthrie shrugged a little. "Just forget about it," he said.

I could still see the red mark on his cheek and ear from where I'd hit him. It wasn't beet red any more, but you could still

see it.

"I really hurt you," I said.

Guthrie reached up, touching his face. "This? This is nothin'. I hardly felt it." He grinned at me, tentatively at first.

That smile made me want to cry again. "Gosh darn it, Guthrie," I said.

"What?"

"You're so nice! I don't deserve it."

"I told you, just forget it."

"Adam told me you were sticking up for me, too."

"You'd do it for me," he said.

"I still get to go tonight," I told him.

"That's good."

Crane stepped outside the back door, and called to both of us to come inside for lunch.

As we started walking towards the house, I said, "I'm doing your chores for the next week."

"For real? That's your punishment?"

"Well, part of it."

"Well, alright," Guthrie said, with another grin. "That just might make gettin' hit worth it."

7


	20. The question of the Jeep

Before we went to the movies, the eight of us went out to eat, at the Pizzaria, in Angels Camp. I was hungry and ate just as

much as the boys did, practically. I thought how it didn't bother me to eat in front of Bill, either, just like it hadn't with Steven. I wondered

how it would be when, or if, I ever got to eat with Eddie. Would I be too nervous and excited to eat?

Felicity had ridden over to Angels Camp with Bill, and so I'd ridden with Ford. The plan was, if she wanted to, she and Ford would

ride in his truck the rest of the evening, and I'd ride with Bill. Meanwhile, Guthrie and Kristin, Trent and Lori were all riding in

Trent's pickup.

I could tell Ford was nervous, on our drive over to Angels Camp. It might not have been so obvious to other people, who

weren't so familiar with his mannerisms and all. But, I could tell he was, by the way he'd alternately talk, and then be quiet, talk, and

then be quiet. And he bit his fingernails, too. Which is a bad habit of his.

We were almost to Angels Camp, and I said, "Just be yourself, Ford. She'll think you're terrific. Don't be so nervous."

"I'm not nervous," he protested.

"Yeah. Okay. That's why you don't have any fingernails left on your right hand," I said.

"Well, alright. Maybe I'm a little nervous," he admitted. "It's just going out with somebody new and all-"

"I know. And I really appreciate it."

"It's okay. It'll probably be a lot of fun."

I studied him, as he drove. "Have you dated much, since you've been at college?" I asked, curious.

"That's highly personal," Ford said, and then gave me a grin.

"I was just wondering," I said. "You're cute, and you're sweet. You're funny."

"You didn't say tall," Ford joked.

"I forgot."

After a couple of moments, Ford said, "I've gone out with a couple of girls. None of them are anything special, though."

"What about Valerie?" I asked. I'd wondered, because the last few times Ford had been home, I knew he hadn't seen

Valerie.

"Valerie's nice. We have fun together. I don't think it will be anything more than that, though."

"Oh," I said, enjoying the way that Ford was talking to me, not like I was an annoying younger sister.

"How about you?" he asked then.

"Huh?"

"How about you?" he asked again. "You and Bill? Is that something you see becoming any more serious?"

"I don't think so," I said.

"How come?"

I hesitated, thinking, and then I answered honestly, "Because he's not Eddie."

That got Ford's attention alright. His eyes got a little wider.

"Oh. Wow, Harlie."

"Well, you asked me," I said, and smiled at him.

"Yeah. I did."

7

Once at the pizzeria, we all got there at about the same time. Bill introduced Felicity to Ford, and I introduced him to Bill, since

they'd never met. Once inside, we found a big table all together, and began the serious business of eating pizza.

I ate nearly as much as the boys did, thinking that it didn't make me cautious to eat around Bill, either, just as it hadn't with

Steven. I wondered if I would feel differently, if I ever got to eat with Eddie, and be too nervous to eat.

7

After eating pizza, we were within walking distance to the movie theater, so that's what we did. I tried to keep an eye

on Ford and Felicity, just to see how they got along. I'd noticed during the pizza meal that she and Ford had been talking. Not

an over-abundance, but still talking. The movie we saw was a comedy, with Dan Ackroyd and John Candy. I had a good time. It was nice

to be out with two of my best friends, Lori and Kristin, and spending time with Bill, plus hanging with Ford and Guthrie. It was

a win-win sort of evening.

Driving back to Murphys, with Bill, and followed by Trent and the others in the car behind us, we all went to the Dari Kurl to

sort of wrap up the evening. I didn't order anything, even though Bill offered to pay for a shake or something for me. I resisted the

temptation, because of the pizza and Coke I'd already consumed, plus the Mike and Ike's candy I'd snacked on during the movie.

We all stood around, talking for a while, in the Dari Kurl parking lot.

Since it just made more sense, and also because it had been arranged beforehand, I was to ride home with Ford, and Felicity would

go with Bill.

Bill was really appreciative of me arranging for Ford to go along, and also for all of us being friendly to his sister.

"Thanks, Harlie, thanks a lot," he said.

"I didn't do that much," I said. I didn't want to tell him that I'd really had to work on Ford to get him to agree.

"Well, it was darn nice of you, and Ford, and the girls, too," Bill insisted. He gave me a quick kiss, on the cheek only, and

I told Lori and Kristin goodbye, and I was waiting in Ford's truck for him. When he got in, behind the steering wheel, we pulled out

of the lot, waving at everybody. Guthrie had left his truck parked at Trent's house, so he would be following along behind us.

"What do you think?" I asked Ford, as soon as we were on our way.

"I think she's real nice," Ford said. He sounded sincere, which of course he was, because Ford's one of the most sincere

people that I know.

"That's good," I said. "I'm glad you think so."

"She seems sort of sad, though," Ford added. "Underneath the surface, you know?"

First of all, I was highly impressed by Ford's intuition, and at how he'd picked up on that about Felicity.

I felt a prickle of what I guessed was guilt. Should I tell Ford about Felicity having had a baby last year, and placing it for

adoption? Bill had asked me not to say anything, since it was just a casual sort of date between her and Ford. So, I decided that

I was within the correctness of the situation to not tell Ford. Since it wasn't likely that he would go out with Felicity again.

So, I settled for saying, "Yeah. She does seem sad, and cautious about people."

"Yeah," Ford agreed. "Well, she's a nice girl."

We were driving thru Murphys now, and going past the vet office. There's a street lamp a bit up from the office, but there was

enough light for me to see that our old Jeep was parked out front.

"Look, Ford," I said, pointing it out to him.

"Hmm," Ford said.

"Do you think something's wrong?" I asked. "One of the dogs sick or hurt?"

"I doubt it. Don't jump to conclusions," Ford advised.

"Well, but it's late for the Jeep to be there," I said, still worrying. "Maybe Clarence is sick and somebody brought him

in to see Ivy."

"I don't think that's it," Ford said.

"Can we stop, though, and make sure?" I asked. "Please, Ford?"

"I guess," Ford said. "Let me go up to the end of the street and do a U-turn."

By the time, though, that Ford had gotten turned around, and we were set to pull up in front of the vet office, Ivy was

standing outside by our Jeep. And Crane was standing there with her.

7

Ford pulled up alongside of them, slowly, until I said, "Hurry up, Ford!"

"Just a minute," he said, and I heard something in his voice.

"What?" I asked, puzzled.

Ford didn't answer me. He stopped and I hopped out, coming around to where Crane and Ivy were.

"Is it Clarence?" I asked, immediately.

Both Ivy and Crane looked a little confused.

"Clarence is at home, and fine as far as I know," Crane said.

"Oh," I said. "I thought when I saw the Jeep here, that maybe something happened to one of the dogs-"

"No. They're all okay, I think," Crane said. He was smiling a little.

"Oh. Okay," I said, and then the four of us just sort of stood there for a minute.

"How was your night out?" Crane asked us.

"Good. Fun," I said.

"Yeah. It was good," Ford agreed.

Another moment of silence, and then Ivy said, "Crane and I just got done grabbing a hamburger at Marie's."

"Oh," I said, again.

"Come on, Harlie," Ford said, and prepared to get back into his truck. "See you later, Ivy," he told her.

"Right. Bye, Ford," Ivy said.

I was still standing there, and Ford said again, "Let's get going, Har."

"Okay. I'll see you Monday," I said, to Ivy.

"See you then," Ivy said.

I went around to my side, and got into the truck cab.

"See you at home later," Ford said to Crane, and then we were on our way.

We'd gone but just a few short feet, and I said, "I'm glad nothing was wrong with Clarence."

"Uh huh," Ford said.

"Why did you tell me to wait a minute?" I asked him. "When you were driving back up?"

"I just wanted to make sure we weren't startling them too much," Ford said. "They seemed sort of involved, in conversation."

I looked at him, puzzled. "Huh?"

"Nothing," he said.

"Tell me what you mean," I insisted, and then it dawned on me what he was getting at.

"Are you serious?" I asked him, and now I was the one who was startled. "You think something's going on with them?"

"I didn't say that. I just didn't want to startle them, that's all."

"You do think it, though. I can tell," I told him. "But, Crane's with Cindy!"

"It's not as though they're engaged, or anything," Ford pointed out. "Crane's a free agent. He can go out with who he

wants to."

"I guess," I said, thinking this over. Was that why Crane was always disappearing in the evenings? Because he and Ivy

were dating? Or meeting up, or whatever it was? I thought over my conversations with Ivy. She had made several comments

about my brothers, Crane in particular, and how nice he was. And, how nice guys like him are hard to find.

"What's the matter?" Ford asked, obviously sensing my hesitation. "You like Ivy, don't you?"

"Yes, I like Ivy. I like her a lot," I said. "It's just-well, I'm sort of surprised, is all."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Ford warned, for the second time. "It could be very simple. Just a hamburger at Marie's. They could be

good friends. It's possible."

"Uh huh," I said.

7


	21. In exile

After church, when we were all arriving back home again, and trooping into the house, Adam caught me, and

said quietly, "As soon as lunch is over, it's room time for you, remember."

As if I was likely to have forgotten.

"I know," I said.

"Make sure you have all your homework and stuff up there, so you don't need to come downstairs for anything," he cautioned.

"Okay," I said, wishing he would quit talking about it. It was making me feel worse about it all. I'd nearly convinced myself

that it wasn't going to be all that bad. I figured I could finish homework, and do some reading on my latest novel from the library,

and then, if all else failed, I could take a nap.

But, the way Adam was talking, he was making it plain, again, that he didn't want, or expect, to see me out of my room. At all.

During lunch, everybody was talking about things. Hannah was asking Ford and Guthrie and I about our evening, and if we'd all

had fun. That made Evan chime in, asking Ford what he'd thought of Felicity. I gave Crane a couple of covert glances across the table,

wondering if he would say anything about meeting up with Ivy. But, of course he didn't. He was as close-mouthed as he usually is.

And then, to make my upcoming afternoon of room restriction even more intolerable, Crane and Evan started talking about

riding up towards the canyon, where we'd taken the burros to.

Crane had promised me he would take me up there soon! For that matter, so had Evan! I gave them both a look of reproach.

Since neither one of them seemed to be paying any attention to me, I tried to catch their eye. That didn't work, either.

When everybody began scooting their chairs away from the table, still talking, I went up to Crane and said quietly, "Are

you going all the way to the canyon?"

Crane, busy refilling his tea glass, didn't look at me as he answered, "I don't know. It depends. We might. I want to try to

count the Mustangs we see."

"But you said I could go!" I said.

Crane stopped and looked at me. "You can still go with me sometime."

"But, you're going today!" I pointed out, unnecessarily. I gave him a pleading look. "And, I can't go today."

"Too much homework?" he asked.

I shook my head, and he nodded them, in remembrance. "Oh, yeah, you're on lockdown for walloping Guthrie." He was

smiling a little, in his eyes.

"There's no such thing as keeping a secret around here," I grumbled.

"Nope," he agreed.

"I wish I could go," I said, trying my best to garner his sympathy.

"Well, you do the crime, you do the time," Crane quipped.

"It's not funny," I told him.

"I didn't say that it was. I don't think it's funny at all, what you did." Now, he wasn't smiling in his eyes any more. He looked

serious.

"I don't need any more lectures about it," I said, irritably.

Crane gave me a look, and then softened a little. "I'll take you up there soon," he said. And, I had to be content with that. Um, not.

7

I finished my trigonometry homework. To the best of my ability, anyway, since I was doing it alone. I'd already done my English the day before, when

Adam had sent me to my room. I read ahead a little in my Anatomy book, thinking it would prepare me for another one of Mr.

Fornelli's pop quizzes. After that, I looked at my clock. Unbelievable. It was only a little after one o'clock! I'd only been up here

a little over an hour.

I read for a little while, from the book I'd checked out from the school library. 'The Catcher in the Rye'. I read for what seemed like a

long time, but was really only about an hour or so. After that I tried to take a nap. Unsuccessfully. I couldn't seem to fall asleep.

I worked on my article for the school newspaper, the one that I'd offered to write about all the animals that

needed to be fostered and adopted.

And by now, it was still only three-thirty. This had to be the longest afternoon ever.

I laid on my back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I started thinking about how I'd smacked Guthrie. With no warning, and

with most of my force. I felt bad about it.

When there was a tap at my bedroom door, right before four o'clock, I sprang up really fast, going over to

pull it open. Nancy was standing there, in the hallway, her arms full of magazines, and a couple of bolts of soft-looking blue material. She

gave me a sassy grin.

"Hullo, wild child," she said in greeting. "Is it visiting hours?"

I felt as though I'd never been so glad to see her before!

"Not really," I said, in honesty. I really, really, really wanted to talk to her. To talk to anybody at that point. But, I didn't want

Adam to get mad. He'd said I wasn't to talk to anybody, and I didn't want him to think about adding more time onto my

room restriction.

"Don't worry," Nancy said. "I've got Adam's permission. For a few minutes, only. I wanted to ask you something."

"What?" I asked, happy just to see her coming on into my room, and depositing her armload of stuff onto my bed.

"I'm thinking about the dresses for the wedding," she said. "I wanted to know what you thought about these colors."

I gave the two colors a look-over. "They're both pretty," I said.

Nancy flipped thru the bridal magazines, coming to a couple of pictures and showing them to me. "I was thinking of this

style for your dress, and then this style for Kelly's. Do you like that?"

I surveyed the picture she'd pointed out. It was shorter than the one I'd worn at Brian and Clare's wedding, and a lot simpler,

but the skirt was sort of flouncy.

"I like it," I told her, honestly.

After that Nancy talked on about how she thought my dress could be in one shade of the blue, and the darker blue could

be Kelly's.

I'd assumed that we would just go buy a dress, like what we'd done for Brian and Clare's wedding, and I was thinking how

there wasn't really very much time left before this wedding took place.

"Is there time to have dresses made?" I asked her.

"If I get started on them right away, then yeah," Nancy said.

"You're going to make them?" I asked, sort of surprised. I mean, Hannah can sew passably well, but nothing too spectacular, but

I'd always found sewing to be just too darn overwhelming to learn.

"Of course I'm going to make them," Nancy said.

"Wow," I said, in awe.

"My mother taught me to sew." Nancy began to gather up the magazines and the material again. "This way, it will be sort of more special.

Anyway, I need to get some measurements, so I can start your dress."

"Okay. Right now?" I asked.

"No. I'll meet you at Ivy's tomorrow at four, alright? It will just take a couple of minutes. Okay?"

When I nodded, she got up with her arms full. "Alright. I better get out of here. I don't want to get in the doghouse with

Adam for staying up here too long with you." She grinned at me, her eyes dancing.

"He won't get mad at you," I said, wishing she could stay longer.

"Maybe not, but I don't want to test out any of these famous McFadden tempers just yet. Maybe after I've been in the

family for awhile, then I will."

"I'm glad," I said, feeling sort of emotional. "That you're going to be a McFadden, I mean."

"I'm glad, too."

She paused at the door, turning back to me. "Are you coming down for supper? Or do you have solitary confinement for

meals, too?"

"Not funny," I told her, and then realized that I didn't know the answer to her question. Surely, Adam wouldn't make me

stay up here during supper, would he?

"I think I get to come down," I said. "I hope so."

"Well, I don't know if I'm going to stay to eat, or not. I may be gone, so if I don't see you at supper, I'll see you tomorrow

to measure, okay?"

"Okay."

7

Finally, when it was nearly six o'clock, and I began to wonder when it was going to be time to eat, there was a tap on

my door, and Evan's voice telling me it was time to come down for supper.

My stomach was grumbling with hunger by this time. I went to open the door quickly enough that Evan was

only just then starting down the stairs.

I scurried to catch up to him. "Is Nancy still here?" I asked him.

"Naw. She had some stuff to do, before work tomorrow."

"She was showing me the style of dress that I'm going to have for the wedding," I said. I didn't think that sharing that

with Evan would be ruining any surprises that Nancy had for him.

"Yeah? That's cool," he said, and turned to give me a grin. "How is it, bein' on lockdown?"

"It's horrible," I said. "I hate it."

"Well, that's sort of the point, right?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him.

As we went into the kitchen, everybody was scooting up to the table, and helping to set food out. Baked chicken. Yum. I felt a

little embarrassed, actually. Everybody at the table would know that I'd spent all afternoon in my room, being grounded. I knew I shouldn't

be embarrassed by it, but I was. And it wasn't even for a 'teenager' sort of reason, that I'd been punished like that. Like staying out

past curfew or something like that.

No, it was for smacking Guthrie. Which is something a little kid, or a middle-schooler would do. So, yeah, I was embarrassed. And,

I felt really, really bad about it, too. Which, I knew, had been Adam's goal all along. And, I still had the week of doing Guthrie's chores

ahead of me, too, although I didn't think that could be as bad as being secluded to my bedroom.

I had to pass by Adam, too, walking to my chair. He was standing near the sink, talking to Crane, and he let his gaze drift to me,

with a sort of serious expression. I slid into my chair, not anxious to meet his eyes.

Looking around the table, as everybody began to sit down, I was surprised to see Ford's chair empty, with no sight of

him anywhere.

"Where's Ford?" I asked Guthrie, really quietly.

"He left to go back already," Guthrie said, taking the platter of chicken from Hannah, and helping himself to two pieces.

I felt as deflated as a balloon. Ford never left to go back to college without telling me goodbye! I felt so disappointed, and hurt

that it bordered on ridiculous.

Guthrie urged the platter towards me. He knows me well. "He had some studying he had to get done," Guthrie said, giving

me a sympathetic look.

I shrugged, trying to act as though it didn't bother me.

"Don't feel bad," Guthrie said, softly.

"He could have taken two seconds to say goodbye," I said, just as softly, feeling upset.

By now, Hannah had overheard our conversation, or at least bits of it. She, too, gave me a sympathetic look.

I concentrated on filling my plate, with the chicken, and broccoli, and two deviled eggs. Talking went on around me, but

I paid the most attention to Crane and Evan, who were talking about their ride earlier.

"How many Mustangs did you see?" Brian was asking.

"Just ten or so," Crane was answering. "We didn't ride all the way up. This was the stallion and some mares."

"The black one?" Brian asked, in interest.

At Crane's nod, I thought of how beautiful the stallion had been when I'd had the opportunity to see him.

"No burros with them," Crane said, addressing me.

By now, Hannah had moved the conversation to Nancy's upcoming bridal shower. It was to be the following Sunday

afternoon, and she was talking over the menu, which included, besides a cake, some other snack items.

"Thanks for the warning," Brian said. "We'll make sure to steer clear of the house during the hen party."

That brought a laugh, at least from the majority of brothers.

I'd finished most of my food by now, and reached for a roll to finish up. Hannah's rolls are so good, you don't even

really need butter on them.

I had my mouth full, chewing, when Crane spoke to me, from across the table.

"Guthrie says you're writing up an article for the school newspaper," Crane said.

I nodded, still chewing.

"That's great, sweetie," Hannah said, giving me an enthusiastic smile, and patting my arm.

"About the animals available for fostering and adoption?" Crane went on.

"Yeah," I said.

"That's really something," Clare said, leaning forward a little, to look around Guthrie to me. "I know it will be good."

"I hope so," I said.

"Harlie's a good writer," Crane went on, looking at Clare. "It will probably get a lot of response for the animals."

I gave Crane a slight smile of appreciation.

"It's not that hard," I said. "Writing something up."

"It's hard for a lot of people to write anything at all," Hannah contradicted me. "So, to be able to write an actual article,

that is something to be proud of."

"That's right," Adam said, from his end of the table. "It takes talent to actually write something like that. Good job, sugar."

I looked at him as he was talking, and he gave me a slight smile.

"Thanks," I said.

I helped clear the table. I almost wished I was on the dishwashing chart. That would be preferable rather than going back

to my room again. But, no, I wasn't on.

I was hoping that Adam would let me stay downstairs the rest of the evening, but I didn't want to come right out

and ask him, either. I was still helping stack plates as he passed by on his way to the coffee pot.

"How's the homework?" he asked me.

"All finished," I told him.

"That's good." He looked sort of thoughtful for a moment or so. "Well, grab a shower, and then finish up the night in

your room."

I couldn't help my disappointment, even though I knew it was dumb. He hadn't given me any reason to think he would

let me off the rest of the evening.

I nodded in answer, and went upstairs just right after that. I got my pajamas and went to take a shower. Since I was the

first one to it, there was hot water. But, I didn't linger very long.

I went back to my bedroom, going to sit on my bed. A glance at my alarm clock had me sighing. 7:10.

I went back to reading my novel, trying to stuff down my feelings of missing Daniel so badly. And, Ford. Leaving like

that, without saying goodbye to me. I tried to tell myself I was being dumb about it.

I was still reading, when, shortly after eight, there was a tap at my door.

"Come in," I said, turning to look at the door.

When Adam came in, I sat up, from where I'd been laying on my stomach while reading.

He came on into the room, and I felt a little apprehensive, wondering what he wanted. Or what he was going to say. He'd

already given me a lecture, and 'laid down the law'. I hoped he wasn't going to get onto me any more than he had.

I let the book go closed in my lap, looking at him.

Adam came over and sat down beside me on the bed. "What are you readin'?" he asked.

I held the book out so he could read the title, and he nodded.

"I thought I'd come up here and talk to you for a few minutes," he said, then.

"Okay," I said, quietly, as he turned a little to look at me.

"What do you think about it all, after bein' up here by yourself all afternoon?" he asked.

"I feel bad," I said, in honesty.

"Do you?"

I nodded.

"What is it you feel bad about?" he asked then.

"It's embarrassing."

"What's embarrassing?"

"That I did something so childish, to Guthrie," I admitted.

Adam looked thoughtful, and then nodded. "Anything else?"

"I just-" I hesitated, thinking, "Feel bad for hurting Guthrie's feelings."

"You two have talked things out, haven't you?"

"Yeah. We talked."

"Alright. That's good. Maybe it did you some good, being up here and doing some reflecting. You think?" he asked.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Alright. Well, don't read too late," he said, and stood up. "See you in the morning, alright?"

"Okay."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"'Night."

He stood there for a moment or so longer, and then leaned over and kissed the top of my head.

7


	22. Eventful

It was some week, that was for sure. I had to get up earlier than usual, on Monday, in order to do Guthrie's before-school chores. I don't typically have

outside chores on school days, so that was different to begin with. I had to rush around, to get everything done, and then speed back

upstairs, to change from old clothes to school clothes.

By the time I got down to the kitchen, Guthrie had already left for school. Holy smokes. I cast a glance at the kitchen clock. I

was late. I would have normally have left already, too. I quite obviously had not gotten up in time to get everything done.

I grabbed two apples from the fruit bowl, and a piece of ham from the platter in the center of the table. The kitchen was thinned out, with

everybody setting about their tasks for the day. Only Hannah was left. I was munching on my ham, standing up, when Hannah gave me a disapproving look.

"Sit down and eat, or you're going to be late," she said.

"I have to leave, like right now," I said.

"You have to have a real breakfast," Hannah insisted, pausing to look at me, a dishtowel in her hand.

"I'm eating ham," I pointed out. "And I'll eat these apples on the way to school."

"That is not a proper breakfast."

"It's fine," I said, and reached for another piece of ham. "I'll eat some more ham."

"I made oatmeal for you-" Hannah began.

"I don't have time to sit down and eat oatmeal," I said. "I have snacks in my locker. I'll have some of those."

"Harlie Marie," Hannah said, sounding tense.

"It's fine," I insisted, wishing she would just drop it. "I have to go."

Hannah and I locked eyes.

"Do not defy me, Harlie," Hannah said.

"I'm not trying to," I protested. "I'm just late!"

A scuffing of boot steps at the back door, and we both broke our eye-lock to look that way. Crane was standing there, and

I realized that he'd been probably standing there for more than a moment or so.

"I'm late, Crane," I said, imploring to his sense of school-is-all-important.

"You'll miss more than just a few minutes of school, if you have to leave later in the day because you're blood sugar

crashes," he said.

"It won't," I said, stubbornly.

Crane looked at me, and then back to Hannah, and I could tell he was deferring back to her. Letting her deal with it, her way,

instead of him just telling me to shape up.

"Take ten minutes to eat your oatmeal," Hannah said, her blue eyes on me again. "If I need to call the school and let them

know you'll be late, then I'll do that."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, and gave up, going silently to get a bowl down from the cabinet, and taking it to the

stove, where I scooped up several spoonfuls of the oatmeal. I went to sit down in my spot at the table, pouring milk on

the oatmeal, and began eating.

Crane came on thru the kitchen, heading to the living room, and Hannah went back to whatever she'd been doing, before

we got into it.

I finished my oatmeal, and juice, and got up to go put my bowl into the sink. Hannah was standing on the step ladder, sorting thru

some of my mom's fancy dishes that we keep in the top cabinet. We hardly ever use them. The last time I could remember any of them

being taken down was when Karissa had come to the house to eat lunch. Before she filed the custody suit and all of that mess.

Thinking of that day, I remembered how great Hannah had been about it. Even though Brian and Adam had not been overly friendly,

but merely cordial, Brian had been especially tense about Karissa coming to the house. And, Hannah had said we should use the dishes,

for the lunch when Karissa came, no matter what Brian thought about it. Remembering that, I sighed a little. The majority of the time

Hannah was great. Fabulous. I knew lots of my friends that fought with their mothers ninety-nine percent of the time. Not that Hannah

was my mom, or anything. But, she did act like one, most of the time. And, we didn't really fight all that much. I was lucky.

I said, sort of quietly, "I'm going to head to school now."

Hannah was taking down plates, glasses, soup bowls, all of that. "Alright," she said, not sounding mad, just more distracted. "Have a good

day."

"You too," I said. I hesitated, and then said, "How come you're getting the dishes down?"

"I thought we might use them for Nancy's bridal shower Sunday."

"Oh. That'll be nice," I agreed. "Well, see you later."

Now, she did stop what she was doing, and look down at me. "See you later," she said, and smiled.

7

I was putting all my books and stuff into my truck seat, getting ready to head out, when I heard someone

say, "Harlie."

I turned to see Adam, walking over from the barn, and wiping his hands on a grease rag.

"Getting a late start to school, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yeah. Sort of."

He regarded me seriously for a long moment or so, and said, "Did you not get up early enough, to do the extra

chores?"

"I guess not," I admitted, and climbed up behind the steering wheel.

Once I was in, and had started the engine, Adam closed the driver's door. I rolled the window down, and he put his

hands on the window groove, leaning in a little.

"No need in being tardy to school," he said. "Right? Get up earlier tomorrow."

I nodded. "Okay."

"Okay." He gave the side of the truck a couple taps with his hand. "Have a good day."

I nodded again. "See you later."

"Bye," he said.

7

I ate one of my apples on the way to school, and once at school, plunged into my day. It was progress report day. They

would be put into the mail that afternoon.

I checked in with all my teachers, just so I would be prepared for what was to come. An A in journalism. No kidding. That

was a vacation class. Miss McQueeney really liked the article that I'd written up on the animals. She had me type it up during class,

and said it would be in the next school paper edition.

C plus in trigonometry; I didn't think that was too bad. It was only a couple of points from a B-. I should be able to accomplish that

by report card time.

Phycology, an A-; and then Anatomy and Physiology, a D plus. I'd never really had a low grade in any class before, other than algebra

the year before, obviously. As I drove to Ivy's office, I went over in my head how the Anatomy grade had gotten out of my control.

Ivy and I had a relatively easy afternoon. My mind was so full of thinking of my grades and all, that I was there for nearly an hour

before I remembered about seeing her and Crane Saturday night.

Since she didn't have any appointments outside of the office that afternoon, she'd begun painting one of the walls at the back of

the office, so I helped with that. At one point, she went to the front, and came back with two cold bottles of Coke.

"Here," she said, offering one to me. "Can you have this?"

"Yes. Once in a while it's fine," I said, taking the Coke from her.

"Great. Let's take a break," she said, sinking down onto the old couch that Doc G had always kept along one of the walls. "Come sit

and rest a while."

I wiped my hands on my jeans, which were spotted with paint by now. I wasn't a very tidy painter.

"How's school?" she asked me.

"Alright," I said. "I've got one low grade that I need to get up."

"Oh," she said, and looked concerned. "That's not going to affect you working here, is it?"

"No. I'll get it up before report card time," I said, trying to sound definite.

"Okay. I mean, not trying to put pressure on you, or anything," she smiled. "It's just-I'd really miss having your help

and company around here."

"Thanks," I told her, and then, after taking another sip of the cold Coke, I said, "How was your weekend?" trying to sound sort

of casual.

"It was alright. How was yours?"

I didn't want the conversation turned to my weekend. I wanted to found out about hers!

"It was fine," I said vaguely. I decided to just approach it, head-on.

"So you and Crane went out to eat together, huh?" I asked.

"We just grabbed a burger at the café," she said, sounding breezy.

"That's good," I said, wishing she would say more than that.

When she didn't, I said, "Crane always does the barbequing at home. Well, usually, unless he's not home. He's a

good cook."

"Is he? I'd love to try some of his cooking some time."

"You could come over the next time we do," I said. "BBQ, I mean. Or even, just to eat with us, when it's his

turn to cook."

"That'd be nice," Ivy said.

Finally, I just got brave enough, or nosy enough, and asked, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Me? No, not really. I did have sort of a long-distance thing going with this guy, from where I used to live, but

that's fizzled out."

"Oh. That's too bad," I said.

"Yeah. Long-distance things hardly ever work."

"Were you serious about him?" I asked.

"Well, we'd dated for four years-" she began.

"Four years?" I asked, amazed. "That's forever."

"Yeah. So, we were semi-serious, but then, when I got the job here, well, he just wasn't the type to just wait around

until he saw me. He wanted to go out with other people."

"Oh," I said.

"It's okay. I'm not broken-hearted about it, or anything. Just a little bit sad. And lonely," she added.

Lonely? Ah.

"And nice guys are hard to find, right?" I prompted, quoting something she'd said to me.

"Very definitely," she said, with a grin.

"Have you-you know, met anybody around here that you want to date?" I plunged on.

Ivy gave me a direct look. I mean, eyes-on.

"Are you trying to ask me something, Harlie?" she asked.

For a moment, I was a little embarrassed. Then, I told myself I needn't be. I was just wondering about my brother, that

was all.

"I was wondering about you and Crane," I told her, honestly.

"Oh," she said, with a nod, not sounding surprised. "Well, I don't know how to answer that, exactly. Crane and I are friends. At

least, I like to think that we are. We have some common interests. I enjoy spending time with him."

Wow. I'd asked, and she'd answered. What a mouthful.

"Crane's a good guy," I said, which was dumb to say. I mean, obviously Ivy knew that, already.

"Yes. He is. And he's darn easy on the eyes, too," she said, and smiled at me again.

I smiled back.

"I'll say this, Harlie. I would go out with Crane in a heartbeat, if he asked me to. There's an honest answer for you."

"Yeah, that's honest alright," I agreed.

"But, you're worried about it, is that it?" she asked, tilting her head a little to look at me.

"Not worried," I said. "It's not my business," I added, for good measure. I didn't want her telling Crane that I'd asked all

these questions.

"Would you have a problem with it, if Crane and I did go out, sometime?" she asked me, pointedly.

"No," I said, in honesty. "Not at all."

"Well, that's good to hear," Ivy said. "I'm not a femme fatale, or anything, Harlie. I know Crane has a girlfriend. If he decides to

ask me out, then it will be his move."

I nodded.

"You plan to stay around Murphys, though, for a long time?" I asked.

"Well, I hope to. I'm not sure how long, exactly." She sighed. "Some of the ranchers still aren't very open to me being here."

"That's so wrong," I said.

"It's something that females have to face in this career choice."

She sighed a little, and then said, "Guess we'd better get back to painting, huh?"

I said okay, and she and I got busy, getting most of the painting done. I was getting ready to leave for the day,

when Nancy came by. I'd forgotten that she'd said she was going to. It only took her a couple of minutes to do the measuring

that she needed.

After that, we stood outside for a few minutes, talking. I knew that I needed to get going on home. I had my chores, and

Guthrie's, too, to do. And I had an Anatomy test the next day that I wanted to do well on, so as to bring up my grade. So, that

was my plans for the evening. Chores, and then studying.

7

I parked in my regular spot at home, noticing that Guthrie wasn't home yet. Since I'd left my old clothes at the vet

office, and was back in my school clothes, I went inside to change first. I could hear Isaac crying. It sounded as though

he was upstairs. I dropped my school stuff on the couch in the living room, and went upstairs. I changed my clothes

really quick, and then, still hearing the baby crying, I went down the hall towards Hannah's bedroom.

Passing by the fold up stairs that lead up to Brian and Clare's living area, I paused at the bottom. Even over

Isaac's crying, I could hear voices up there.

Hannah appeared at the top of the stairs, and saw me there.

"Harlie," she said, pausing, and looking down at me. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Isaac's awake, and upset. Do you think you could check-"

"Sure," I said. "I'll go get him up."

"Thanks, sweetie," she said, and disappeared again.

I went on down the hallway, to the half-open door of Hannah and Adam's bedroom. I went in, and Isaac had pulled himself

to a standing position in his crib, and was full-out crying. He is such an easygoing baby that he hardly ever cries. But, at this

moment, his entire face was beet red and scrunched up. He held out his arms to me, and I went over and lifted him out of the crib.

"Oh, buddy," I told him, "What's the matter? Huh? You're okay." I patted his back and rocked him back and forth for a couple of

minutes, still talking to him. He settled down, until he was done crying, and his breathing wasn't as ragged. He was still looking

sort of indignant, though, I thought, if it was possible for a baby to look indignant. Hannah's a doting mom, and between her, and then

a houseful of other people who adore Isaac, he never has to wait to be held, or gotten up, or much of anything.

So, now, I think he was wondering why it had taken so long for someone to come to him, when he'd woken up from his nap.

I laid him on the bed, and changed his diaper, and then went back out into the hallway.

"We'll find Mommy," I told him. "And then you can have a little snack, huh? You want a snack?"

I paused beside the stairs that lead up to Brian and Clare's space. If I listened carefully, I could still hear

the low murmur of voices up there. I started up the stairs, carefully carrying the baby. When I got to the top, I could see

over the big room, with the living area first, and then the small kitchenette. I stepped on up, and paused.

I walked on over to the wall that separates the living room area to where Brian and Clare's bed is at. Hannah and Clare were

sitting on the bed, close together. Hannah had her arm around Clare's waist, and Clare was holding a washcloth to her

forehead. She was sort of bent over.

I stopped, feeling immediately concerned. Hannah looked up at me, standing there.

"How's the little man?" she asked.

"He's okay, I think," I said. "He just wanted somebody to get him up."

"Well, thank you," she said.

Clare was taking some deep breaths, in and out, and dabbing at her face with the washcloth.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, tentatively.

"Everything's okay," Hannah answered.

I'd really have rather that Clare answered me. It was her I was wondering about.

"Sure?" I asked.

Clare raised her head to look at me. "I'm okay, toots. Don't worry about me."

Her pretty face looked pale, and her hair was all sticking up, parts of it wet from the washcloth.

"Do you think you can get Isaac a snack?" Hannah asked me. "And then maybe start the chicken? We have some boxes of Shake and

Bake. You could use that."

Just for a moment, I thought of all the chores I had waiting. But, I just nodded, and said, "Sure. I will."

"Thank you, sweetie," Hannah said.

"Do you need me to bring anything up?" I asked. "Some 7-up, or something?"

"No," Clare said. "Thanks." She was bending over again, a little, and I wondered if she was getting ready to throw up.

I took Isaac, and went back down the narrow attic stairs, and then down the other stairs to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, I put

Isaac in his high chair, washed my hands, and gave him some Cheerios and small pieces of banana. Then I found the defrosted chicken, and did the Shake and

Bake, putting it in the oven. By now it was after five. I took Isaac with me and carried his baby walker out to the barn. I installed him

in the walker, and then began mucking out the stalls, which is something Guthrie usually does. I didn't see how I could feed the goats while I

was watching Isaac, but he was fine in his walker, pushing around the barn.

I'd been at it for awhile, a few minutes, when I heard voices, and Evan, Brian and Adam came into the barn.

"Hey, buddy," Adam said to Isaac, who began to garble happily at the sight of his daddy.

"What are you doing?" he asked me. "How come Isaac's out here?"

"I didn't know how else to do chores and keep an eye on him at the same time," I said.

"Oh. Well, where's Hannah?" he asked.

"She's upstairs. With Clare," I said.

Immediately, I sensed Brian's heightened awareness.

"Clare okay?" Brian asked me.

"She's not feeling great," I said.

"I'm gonna go check on her," Brian said. He sounded calm enough to me, but he sure did scuttle out of the barn quickly.

"Maybe I better go see about gettin' some supper going," Adam said.

"I did," I said. "Shake and Bake Chicken. It's in the oven."

"Oh. Well, that's good. Thanks, sugar."

"I'll check on it in a few minutes," I said. "Don't want it to burn."

"I'll tell you what," Adam said. "Why don't you take Isaac back into the house, and see what you can do to help finish

supper up?"

"I'm not done with Guthrie's stuff, though," I pointed out. "And I still have my chores to do-"

"I'll finish this up," Adam said, reaching out to take the rake from me.

"And I'll feed your goats for you," Evan said.

I was a little surprised, but I nodded, and said, "Okay." I went to take Isaac out of his walker to carry him.

"Leave the walker. I'll bring it in in a few minutes," Adam told me.

"Okay," I said again. Adam gave me a half-smile, and I went on to the house.

7


	23. Evening of Events

I had gone back inside the house, and reinstalled Isaac in his walker. After I washed my hands, I checked on the chicken in the

oven. It wasn't done, so I started getting together some things for side dishes. Hannah had made a couple loaves of homemade

bread earlier in the day, and I made a salad, and decided we could fill in with cottage cheese.

I kept thinking about Clare. I was nearly positive that she must be pregnant, and I couldn't help feeling excited. Still, there

had been a couple of other times in the past year that I'd thought she might be, but it was always something else. The flu, or

stress from her hospital job, or something like that.

Isaac was starting to get fussy, and I was in the process of making him a bottle, when Hannah came down the back stairs.

She ran her hand over my back as she passed by to go and lift Isaac from his walker. He immediately quieted down.

"Thank you so much, sweetie," she told me. "You're a real lifesaver."

"It's okay. I don't mind helping out," I said.

"Well, it smells great."

"I was just making Isaac a bottle," I told her.

"Alright. He knows something's up around here, and his routine is off-kilter," Hannah said.

I handed the bottle off to her, and for a long few moments, we stood there, close together, and our eyes met. Hannah knew

what I was wondering about, alright.

"Is Clare-" I began, and hesitated.

Hannah nodded. "Yes."

I couldn't help the giant smile I flashed then. "Yea!" I said, in excitement.

"I think she and Brian want to tell everybody tonight, themselves," she went on. "Obviously, you know, because you

saw how she was earlier. But, let them tell everybody else in their own time, okay?"

"My lips are sealed," I promised. "How's Brian reacting?"

Hannah smiled a little. "Happy. Stunned." She leaned closer and said, in a near whisper, as if telling a secret, "Terrified."

I laughed. "I'll bet so. But, he'll be great. Don't you think?"

"I know he'll be great," Hannah said, with positivity.

I thought backwards in time, to Hannah's early days of pregnancy. I couldn't remember her being really ill with morning sickness.

Just tired, and maybe a few times of stomach upset. But, nothing major.

To be certain, I asked her, "Did you have bad morning sickness? I don't remember you having it."

"No, not really. I was fortunate. Just a few bumpy mornings, that was all." She smiled at me. "You used to bring me

hot tea, with lots of sugar, remember?"

"I remember."

"You caught on early to Isaac being on the way," she said.

"Yeah. And you and Adam wanted to wait and tell everybody after Brian and Clare's wedding was over," I added.

We were both back in memory lane for a couple of moments, and then Hannah said, "Well, we'll have to help Clare out,

any way that we can."

"Absolutely," I agreed. "Do you think she will be this sick, though? I mean, for very long?"

"I don't know," Hannah said, looking concerned. "I sure hope not."

Voices were approaching. Boot steps could be heard.

Everybody came into the kitchen, all talking at once. Well, mostly it was Guthrie and Evan doing the talking.

"Here, hon," Hannah said, handing Isaac off to Adam as he finishing drying his hands. "I need to help Harlie finish up."

Adam took the baby, and began feeding him his bottle, going to sit down in his own chair. "Guthrie, help set the table," he

ordered.

Guthrie reached out and grabbed a piece of the homemade bread, biting into it as he went to the cabinet to pull down

plates. Crane began putting the silverware by each chair, and so between us all, we got supper on the table. We were just

preparing to take our seats when Brian and Clare came in, from the living room.

Not wanting to seem too obvious, I gave them both a look. Clare looked alright. She'd obviously brushed her hair, and though she

seemed pale in the kitchen light, she looked good. Brian seemed as he usually was. He kept his arm around the back of Clare's

chair as they sat down, his fingers touching her shoulder, but there was nothing unusual in that. They spent many meals holding hands

under the table.

"Do you want me to take him?" Hannah asked Adam, looking down the table at him.

"No, I've got him," Adam said.

Everybody dived into the meal, especially Evan and Guthrie.

"Good job on the chicken, shortcake," Evan said, in praise to me.

"Yeah. It's actually edible," Guthrie chimed in.

"Gee, thanks," I said, and gave Guthrie a poke in his ribs. It did not slow down his eating at all.

"Harlie helped save the day," Hannah said, reaching over to pat my hand.

I wondered when Brian and Clare were going to tell everybody. Now, or later on, in the living room. Clare had eaten a piece of

chicken, and two rolls, I'd noticed.

As everybody was finishing up the meal, and standing up, Clare spoke up and said, "Brian and I have some news."

Ah, here it was! Hannah and I exchanged a comradery look.

"We're going to have a baby," Clare said. And the chaos began.

Adam, with Isaac still in his arms, went to wrap his free arm around Clare's shoulder, and kissed her forehead. He gave

Brian a black slap and said, "I'm happy for you two."

Crane did the same, only he gathered Clare into a full hug, and then turned to do the same to Brian.

Everybody else took their turn, and when it was mine, I gave Clare a warm hug, and then reached up to

squeeze Brian as hard as I was able to.

"It's exciting!" I said, and Clare, though she still looked pale and washed out, had a sparkle in her eyes.

"It is," she said, squeezing my arm. "Very much."

"You'll have to call Ford, and Daniel, too," Hannah was telling Brian.

"Yeah. We'll do that here in a few minutes," Brian said, in agreement.

"How about that?" Guthrie tossed in, to everybody in general. "Every time there's a wedding planned around here for one

McFadden, another McFadden is pregnant."

"Well, that's true, for two anyway," Hannah said, laughing.

"There you go, Ev," Guthrie went on. "If Crane gets married in the next year, there's your guarantee that you and Nancy will

be havin' a baby-"

Crane just smiled, and didn't protest the thought of a wedding, but everybody laughed at the look of sheer panic on

Evan's face.

7

The evening had to end on a high note. Nancy showed up, and joined into the happiness and celebration about the new

baby, which would be born in the spring. April.

Since everybody was still gathered in the living room, there was lots of talking about the wedding plans, and Brian

made a call to Ford. And one to Daniel.

Ford didn't really talk to everybody. He was on the phone in the hall at the dorm, and only had a few minutes, so he

just talked to Brian, and then to Clare.

Brian had to leave a message on Daniel's answering machine. I couldn't help being disappointed by that. I had hoped to have a few

minutes to talk to Daniel myself. It had been forever, it seemed like.

We were four weeks down and counting to the wedding. The hope was that the weather would be predictably nice, and people could

spill over outside once the ceremony was done. It had been decided not to attempt to have the ceremony outdoors, as with Brian and Clare's.

Adam had again, though gently, suggested that the wedding could be held at our church in Murphys.

Evan, however, maintained that he wanted the wedding at the house. And, so, at the house it was to be.

I was curled up on the couch, my feet tucked under me, just enjoying the family sort of evening. I wished that Daniel and Ford

were there. Sometimes, I missed Daniel so much that I ached from it. I had my anatomy class study guide in front of me, and in

between the talking about the wedding, and the new baby, I did some rereading, trying to commit it to my memory.

Crane, who'd been working at the desk, came over and sat down beside me, taking the spot that Guthrie had just vacated.

"How goes it?" he asked me, tapping my study guide.

"I have a test tomorrow," I told him.

"Yeah? Ready for it?" he asked.

"I'm going to be," I said. "I intend to get an A on it."

"Fantastic," he said. "That's the talk I like to hear."

"Progress reports were sent out today," I said.

"Alright."

I was preparing to tell him then, about the D+ that would be showing up on my Anatomy grade. But, before I could,

I heard Evan say my name, in a conversation he was having with Adam. He and Nancy were sitting in chairs opposite Adam

and Hannah.

"What about me?" I said. "I heard my name."

"I'm just sayin', you had the idea about the line cabin," Evan said. "And, Nancy and I have talked about it."

Well, that got my attention. I got up to go and sit on the arm of the chair that Nancy was sitting in.

"I don't know, Ev," Adam was saying.

"We could do it," Evan was insisting.

"You mean, you're actually thinkin' about fixing it up to live there?" Guthrie chimed in.

"I got to thinking about it," Evan admitted. "And it's not such a bad idea."

I resisted the urge to say, 'I told you so', or go 'HA!' in Guthrie's face.

"Are you sure, Evan?" Hannah asked, looking doubtful.

"Well, there's water, and electricity, and if we put in a few hours, we can get the floor fixed up, and clean up," Evan said.

He made it sound as though it was only a matter of a little time.

"It would take all hands on deck," Brian was saying.

"Definitely," Adam agreed.

"Well, you all would help, wouldn't you?" Evan asked, looking around the room.

"Of course we would," Adam said. He still looked skeptical.

"What do you think about it, Nancy?" Crane asked, and everyone gave Nancy their attention.

"I think it's doable," Nancy said. "And it would be nice to have our own little place." She smiled a little, and reached over

to take Evan's hand.

"At least, it would work until Nancy's sister finds her own place," Evan added.

Nancy nodded in agreement. "That's right."

There was a moment or so of silence in the room, as everybody tossed the idea around in their minds.

"So, what do you all say?" Evan asked. "Can we do it, do you think?"

Adam looked to Hannah, and then to Brian and Crane.

"I'm in," Brian said. I thought he was on such a high right then about the baby, that he would have agreed to nearly anything.

"Me, too," Crane said.

Hannah nodded in agreement, and Adam said, looking at Evan, "Well, if that's what you and Nancy want, then, yeah, we'll do our best to

get it done."

"Thanks, everybody," Evan said. "Thanks a lot."

"Yes, thank you all so much," Nancy said.

"Honeymoon cottage comin' right up," Brian said, with a grin.

7

Eventually, some of the excitement of the evening tapered off a bit. Nancy left to go home, and everybody began taking

turns at the shower.

I'd taken my turn, and done my shot, and then, taking a glass of milk, I headed up to my room. I intended to do some

more studying.

I heard scuffling in the hallway, and laughter, and stepped back out. Guthrie and Evan were rough-housing

around, and Brian and Clare were coming up the stairs.

"Cool it a minute," Brian warned. "Pregnant lady coming through." He had his arm around Clare's waist.

Evan and Guthrie both paused, and Guthrie gave a gallant, over-dramatic bow as Clare and Brian walked past.

"You goof," Clare told him. "'Night, fellas. Night, toots."

The three of us chorused, "Goodnight" to Clare, and she and Brian went up to their attic rooms.

"I'm goin' to bed," Guthrie said, and then he said goodnight, too.

That left Evan and I standing there. I smiled at him and he smiled back.

"I'm glad you had that idea," he told me. "About the cabin."

"I'm glad, too."

"It sure solved the whole problem we were havin'."

"I'm glad, Ev," I said, again. "I really am."

"Yeah. Well, 'night," he said.

I told him goodnight, and went back into my room.

I studied for awhile longer, until I felt fairly confident that I could do well on the test.

By now, it was after 9:30, and I knew I had to get to sleep, so I could get up, and not be running late the next day.

I stacked up my papers and books, and laid out my clothes for the morning. I went out to the bathroom, and when I was done, I hesitated,

in the hall, thinking.

The light in Crane's room was on. I could see it under the door.

I went down the hallway, and tapped softly on his door.

"Yeah? Come in," he said.

I opened the door, and stepped inside. He was sitting at the big desk he has in his room, and he turned as I came in.

"Hey, peanut," he greeted me.

"Hey."

"Shouldn't you be getting to bed?"

"Yeah. I'm going. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute."

"Oh. Okay," he said, and turned in his chair to face me. He took off his glasses and laid them on the desk. "What's up?"

I went over and sat on the edge of the bed. "I was talking to Ivy," I said casually. "I told her what a good cook you are, and she

said she'd like to come over sometime when you're making a meal. Lasagna, or something."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked. He smiled, but I couldn't really tell anything from his response about how he felt towards Ivy. "Well, we can

do that."

"I think she's sort of lonely," I went on. "With no family around here, and with the way some of the rancher have treated her-"

"Yeah. It can be rough," he agreed, still not giving anything away about his feelings.

"Yeah." I hesitated. I nibbled at my lower lip a bit, thinking.

Crane, as on point as he usually is, said, "You didn't come in, just to talk about Ivy wanting to eat my lasagna, did you?"

"No," I admitted.

"What is it?" he asked.

"One of my grades on the progress report isn't going to be so good," I said.

He regarded me seriously for a long couple of moments. "Which one?"

"Anatomy. That's why I have every intention to do really good on the test tomorrow. Mr. Fornelli says if I do well on it,

then it will raise it up, before grade cards come out."

"What's your grade?" he asked.

"A D+," I admitted.

Crane raised an eyebrow, and said, "Hmm," in that way he has.

"If I get an A tomorrow, or a high B, on the test, then I should be fine," I went on. "I can come out of the nine weeks with

a B in that class."

"What happened, for it to go to a D?" Crane asked.

"The usual. A low test score. And lots of surprise quizzes," I said.

"That you weren't prepared for?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said with a sigh. "And-" I hesitated.

"And, what?" he prompted.

"And, the class is a lot tougher than I thought it would be," I admitted.

"Sometimes that's the way it goes," Crane said.

I was so glad he wasn't upset with me, that I breathed a little easier. "If I get it up by grade card time, then I'll be okay

for the work study program," I said.

"It seems to me that it would be easier, and less stressful, if you kept your grade up all along, and not have to go thru

this," Crane pointed out. "Don't you think so?"

I nodded. "Yes," I agreed.

He gave me a long, serious look. "Well, alright. Let's see how you do on the test tomorrow. If it's a B or higher, then maybe

you can do a little better job of staying on top of things."

"Okay," I said.

"If you don't do so well on the test, then, well, we'll go from there," he said.

To me, it sounded ominous. I wasn't sure I wanted to know, but I asked anyway.

"What's that mean?"

"Don't get more stressed out," he told me. "Just do your best."

"I will. But, does that mean you're going to ground me? Because, you don't have to do that, Crane. Really."

"You told me you have every intention of getting an A," he reminded me. "Just focus on that."

I sighed. "Okay."

He stood up, and so did I. He gave me a hug and kissed the top of my head.

"Get some sleep," he told me.

"Okay." I sighed again, looking up at him. "I know kids at school whose parents don't even ask about their grades. They just

sign their report cards and that's it."

"And you wish we were like that, too, is that it?" he asked.

"No. I'm glad you care," I said. "It's just-you're really strict about grades. That's all I meant."

Crane looped his arms over my shoulders. "I'm only asking of you what I know that you're capable of, young lady."

"Ooo, 'young lady'," I said, echoing his words. "I think I'd better get out of here, if you're at the 'young lady' stage

of the lecture."

"Comedian," Crane told me. "And, it wasn't a lecture." He unlooped his arms from my shoulders. "Get to bed."

"Yes, sir!" I said, giving him a sassy smile.

He aimed a swat at the seat of my horse pajamas, but I sidestepped it just in time.

"You're getting slow," I teased.

As he made a mock-threatening move towards me, I hustled to the door. I was still laughing when I got to

my own bedroom door.

7


	24. Keeping on

I got up early enough to complete Guthrie's morning chores, change clothes again, and eat breakfast, all without having to rush.

I was pretty darn proud of myself. Those at the breakfast table was sparse, though, by the time I got there. Only Hannah was still sitting in

her spot at the table, and Adam at his, holding Isaac on his lap. Guthrie was still eating his pancakes, and Evan was finishing, pushing in his chair,

and saying that he was going to go up that afternoon to start cleaning out the cabin, and see what needed to be put on the repair list.

"You gonna come up after you get home?" he asked me and Guthrie.

"I can," Guthrie said, pouring more syrup on his pancakes.

"I will if I can," I told him.

I didn't know where Crane was, and Brian and Clare were nowhere in sight.

"Is Clare sick this morning?" I asked Hannah, as I slid into my seat.

Hannah nodded, looking regretful. "Uh huh."

"When does she go to the doctor?" Adam asked, feeding a bite of pancake to Isaac.

"Tomorrow," Hannah said.

Adam nodded, and I focused on eating, looking over my anatomy notes while I did so.

"Harlie, put that away while you eat," Hannah said, but she didn't say it very insistently. Probably because she knew

what I was going to say.

"I have to keep looking at it," I said. "It's first hour. I have to commit it to my memory."

"What's the big deal?" Guthrie asked, standing up to take his plate to the sink.

"I have to make an A on it," I said.

I saw Hannah and Adam exchange a look down the table.

"Maybe you're putting too much pressure on yourself," Hannah began.

"I have to. I promised myself. And, I promised Crane," I said.

Again, another look between the two of them.

"I don't think Crane expects you to study while you eat," Adam said mildly.

The telephone began ringing in the living room, and Guthrie made his exit, saying he had to get going.

"I'll get the phone," Hannah said.

I took my bowl to the sink, and grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl, following Guthrie to the living room.

Adam was behind me, carrying the baby.

"Have a good day," he told both Guthrie and I, following us out onto the porch.

"You, too," Guthrie said. "See ya at school, Har."

"See you," I echoed, going down the porch stairs, still looking at my study guide, as I walked. "Bye, Adam."

"Hold up a minute," Adam said.

I was almost halfway to my truck by now, and I turned back to look at him. He'd come down to the bottom of the

porch steps.

"Huh?" I asked.

He walked over to where I stood. "Put that in your backpack," he ordered.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Adam flicked the paper with the hand he had free from Isaac. "That. Put it in your backpack."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to be tempted to look at it while you're driving," he told me.

"I won't," I began, but his voice overrode mine.

"Put it away. Right now, while you're standing here," he said.

"Adam-" I began again, giving him a placating look.

"Harlie Marie. Put it away."

I sighed, but not so much where he could hear me. "Okay," I conceded, and slid my backpack from my shoulder,

and unzipped it, taking out my binder, and sliding the study guide into it. Then, I put the binder back, and rezipped

the backpack, slinging it back over my shoulder.

And then I looked up at him. "Put away," I said.

"Good. Make sure it stays in there until you get to school. Hear me?"

I nodded.

"Alright. Get going," he said.

I started to go, but after a couple of steps, I turned around and came back. I leaned my face close to Isaac's, and kissed his

chubby face, while he chortled with laughter. Then I gave Adam a half-smile.

"See you later," I told him. I didn't want to start my day off by leaving without telling him goodbye. Even if I did think he was

being way too worrying about me.

"Yep. Have a good day."

He smiled at me, then, too.

7

I found that most of the information on the anatomy test was familiar to me. That thrilled me, let me tell you. When Mr. Fornelli

collected them, I was feeling confident that I'd done well. An A for sure. Or maybe a B-plus.

I sat with Lori and Kristin at lunch, and Bill came over to say hello. There was a crowd of kids at our table and the

one next to us. The talk was of another beer party, going to be held that weekend, at one of the boy's pastures, tucked a ways back from

his parent's house.

Guthrie was sitting at the same long table, with Trent and some of the other guys. I watched him to see his reaction to the talk of the party, but

he didn't say anything. He just kept tossing tater tots into his mouth, and talking about other stuff.

"You want to go?" Bill asked me. "To that party?"

"I don't know," I said. "I'm not sure that I can." In my head, I added the silent words, "or sure that I should".

"If you do, you could ride with me," Bill offered, in a lower tone.

I turned to look at him. He really was nice.

"Thanks. I'll see," I told him. Though, I was highly doubtful.

Chelsea was really talking up the party, and I watched her, feeling a little sorry for her. I've known Chelsea since second grade.

She's always been a little flighty, with no real purpose behind anything that she does, beyond having fun. I've been with her

enough to know that she drinks too much, and gets way too involved with guys she doesn't know well.

Steven was walking past, with another boy that I knew was in Guthrie's class. He looked at me briefly, and nodded.

I didn't nod back, but I also didn't give him a scathing look. I just met his eyes, and then looked away.

He paused where he was at, and that made me look at him again. And then he mouthed the words, 'I'm sorry'.

I'd never had anybody do anything like that before. Just like in the movies, where somebody mouths words to

somebody else, so no one else can see, or hear.

I looked away again.

Trent was talking now, about how Kenny was going to be released, or whatever, from the boy's ranch he'd been

sent to. He was happy about it, as was Lonnie, and Guthrie, too. They were talking about getting a camping trip together with Kenny,

when one of the other guys, Mike Feldman, made a smart-alecky comment about Kenny, and how he should just be forced to stay at the boy's ranch.

"After what he did," Mike went on. "They oughta throw away the key on him."

I instantly saw Guthrie's hackles go up, as well as Trent's.

"He did his time, Mike," Trent defended.

"Him and those other guys, they made Murphys look bad," Mike insisted.

"Yeah," Guthrie said, as if agreeing at first. "Murphys needs guys like you to be proud, right, Mike?"

Mike looked at Guthrie, as if he was determining whether Guthrie was serious.

"I mean," Guthrie went on, in sarcasm, "Guys like you, that get drunk every weekend, and spend their time painting underpasses

on bridges, that's what makes Murphy proud, right?"

Mike bristled. "You've got a big mouth, McFadden," he accused.

Guthrie shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Just sayin' the truth," he said.

I felt all my senses go on alert. No fight, no fight, I kept saying to myself.

"I seem to remember you painting a bridge or two in your time," Mike hurled at Guthrie.

"When I was twelve," Guthrie specified. "And Brian made sure I never wanted to do it again, when he caught me at it."

"Just lay off of Kenny," Trent was telling Mike. "Don't hassle him when he gets back."

Mike muttered something insulting, about Trent's mother, and Trent bristled, standing up.

"Shut your pie-hole, Mike," Trent said.

"Trent, don't," Lori said, pulling at his sleeve of his shirt.

"Not worth it," Guthrie told Trent, and when Trent sat back down, Mike and his two friends stalked off, back

towards the school.

Into the tenseness at the table, I said, "What a jackass."

"That, and a few other things," Trent said.

Guthrie sort of smiled at me, and then asked Kristin if she was finished eating. They got up to go back into school.

"See you later," Kristin told me.

Shortly after that, I gathered up my lunch trash, preparing to go, too. As Lori and I were walking in, Bill was beside me.

"Lissy really had fun the other night," Bill was telling me.

"Did she? I'm glad," I said.

"I think she was talking to your brother on the phone, but I'm not sure," he went on. "She was real secretive about it."

"Really?" I asked, looking at him in surprise. I mean, I hadn't expected that Ford would call Felicity again.

"I think maybe so."

"Hmm," I said, thinking that over.

Before I left to go to Ivy's to work, I managed to find Mr. Fornelli in his room, having his lunch break, with no other students

around.

I tapped on the door, and he motioned me to come in.

"Yes, Harlie?" he asked.

"I was wondering-when you might know how I did on the test," I told him.

"Anxious, are you?" he said, with a smile.

"A little bit," I said, smiling back.

"Well, can you wait a couple of minutes?" he asked me. "I'll grade yours now."

"I can wait," I said. "Thanks a lot."

While he graded my test, I wandered around the room, looking over his science exhibits.

"Alright, Harlie, I've finished," he told me, and I walked back over to his desk.

"You did well," he told me, and handed it off to me.

There was a B- written across the top in bright blue pen.

I felt a sudden rush of disappointment. I'd so thought I'd aced it.

"Something wrong?" he asked me. "That B should take care of your nine-week grade, if you continue to do well for the

next three weeks."

"Yes," I said, and then when he was looking puzzled at me, I sighed a little. "It's just-I thought I knew the material well

enough to get an A."

"You knew the material just fine. It was on your written essay answers that you were a bit vague."

"Oh," I said, disappointed.

"Harlie, there is nothing wrong with that grade," he told me. "You did fine."

"Yes, sir," I said.

"I'll need to keep it for a day or so longer, to record it in my grade book," he said, and I handed the test back to him.

"Have a good day, now," he told me.

"Thanks," I said, and prepared to leave.

"Just a heads up, Harlie," he said, after me. "We might be having a pop quiz by the end of the week. On the two new chapters."

"Okay," I said, turning to look at him. "Thank you."

7  
Since I'd waited on Mr. Fornelli, I was a few minutes late getting to the vet office. I went inside, and changed my clothes in the

office bathroom, before going on to the back. Ivy was washing out a horse trailer with a power hose.

"Hey, Harlie," she greeted me, only just missing me with the spray of water. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," I said.

"I have something I need to do," she told me. "How do you feel about managing things around here for me this afternoon?"

"Okay," I said, hesitating a moment. "What do you want me to do?"

"Well, you could finish this trailer up, if you don't mind," she said.

"I don't mind."

"Okay. Turn off the water for a minute."

I went to turn off the water hydrant, as Ivy stepped out of the back of the trailer.

"If you can do this, the Clark's are supposed to pick it up after awhile," Ivy said.

Ah, it was the Clark's trailer. I could only hope that it wouldn't be Reagan.

But, I told her I would, and she told me a few other things that I could do while she was gone.

"I have a meeting," Ivy was telling me. "I'm going to go change my blouse."

I took the hose from her hand, thinking she was looking really animated about whatever her meeting was.

After Ivy had gone, she came back again. "I totally forgot that I didn't pay you on Friday," she said.

"It's okay. I wasn't worried," I told her.

"Well, I don't want to lose you," Ivy said, smiling at me. She reached into her pocket and pulled out some money,

handing me forty-five dollars.

"I still owe you for two days from last week," Ivy said. "I haven't forgotten, Harlie. I've just been running a little

short lately."

"That's okay," I said. I felt bad for Ivy. I knew that her student loans were high, and all that.

"I'll catch you up," Ivy said.

7


	25. Scurry Flurry

I was relieved when it was Mr. Clark who came to get the trailer, and not Reagan. I wasn't sure I would be able to watch my mouth if

she started spouting off.

Once at home again, I carried all my school stuff into the house. I'd brought home a couple

changes from the vet office that I needed to put in the washer downstairs. Instead of doing that right away, I went upstairs to

change my jeans. They were damp on the hems from washing out the trailer.

After I'd done that, I came out of my room, intent on heading down and out to do my chores. The bathroom door was closed,

but I could hear the unmistakable sounds of someone in there, throwing up. Violently vomiting, if that makes sense.

I waited, listening. I knew it had to be Clare. I felt so bad. I waited there, just outside the door, my hand on the door frame.

When there was a brief lull in the sounds inside the bathroom, I tapped just very lightly, and said, "Clare? Do you need anything?"

After a couple of moments, the bathroom door opened, just a bit, and then further, as Clare straightened up, and brushed her

hand over her mouth.

"Hey, toots," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Hey." I regarded her with concern. "What can I do for you?" I asked her.

"Oh, I don't know. Nothing, really, I don't think."

"You wanna lay down for a while?" I asked her. "You should."

"I've been laying down. For the last hour. I really need to get up and get busy doing something."

"It's nothing that won't wait, is it?" I pointed out.

There was a tiny smile at the corner of her mouth, before it faded away.

"I guess."

"You want to lay on my bed?" I offered.

"No. I'll go back up," she said, and headed toward the attic steps.

I followed after her, concerned. "Where's Hannah?"

"She went to the store, I think." She turned to look back at me. "I'll see you later."

I watched her go, concerned. And then, as a thought occurred to me, I went down the stairs, carrying my boots. I went

thru to the kitchen, where I found Guthrie, his hand literally in the cookie jar.

"Hi," I told him.

"Hey." He took a bite out of one of the cookies and watched as I went to put the teakettle on. I got down tea bags, and

pulled the sugar canister out.

"Clare's sick," I told him.

"Again?" Guthrie made it sound as though Clare should be sick once, and then be done with it.

"Yes, again," I said, giving him a perturbed look.

"I thought it was called morning sickness," Guthrie said.

"It is called that. But it can happen anytime of the day, or even all day sometimes," I told him.

Guthrie looked shocked. "No kidding? That sucks."

"I think Clare thinks it sucks, too."

I went on, busily putting a liberal amount of sugar into a cup, and hanging a tea bag in it.

"When is Kenny coming back?" I asked, leaning against the counter to wait until the tea kettle began to whistle.

"Next week," Guthrie said, and I could hear the gladness in his voice.

"I hope none of the kids make it rough for him," I said.

"Trent and Lonnie and I'll make sure they don't," Guthrie said.

I looked at him, concerned. "Adam won't want you fighting."

"Who says I'm gonna need to fight?" Guthrie challenged.

I shrugged. "Hopefully the jackass will keep his mouth shut."

"Yeah."

"I'll bet Kenny's mom is over the moon happy right now."

"She is," Guthrie said. "She's baking stuff and putting it in the freezer so Kenny can have a bunch of desserts."

"I'm gonna head up to help Evan at the cabin," Guthrie said. "You gonna come?"

"I've got chores. Mine and yours, too, remember?" I told him, rolling my eyes.

Guthrie took another cookie from the jar and grinned at me. "Yeah. I could get used to this, not havin' chores to do."

He gave me a wave, and said, "See ya later," as he went out the back door.

The tea kettle began to hiss, and I poured hot water into the cup with the sugar and tea-bag. I stirred it, and dunked the tea bag

a few times. I went up the back stairs, and then up the attic stairs, carrying the hot drink.

At the top of the attic stairs, I didn't see Clare right off. I figured she was in the enclosed part, where the bed is.

"Clare?" I said softly, walking that way.

Clare was curled up on her and Brian's bed, covered with an afghan, and reading some sort of medical book.

"Hey," she greeted me.

"I brought you up some hot tea," I told her.

"Oh. That's really nice," she said, sounding sort of weak.

She half-sat up, reaching out for the cup.

I handed it to her, and sat down on the edge of the bed, as she began sipping at it.

"It's good, thanks," she said.

"It's okay."

Clare took a couple more small sips, and then sat the cup on the night stand, and then laid her head back down.

"I'm sorry you feel so bad," I told her.

"It will pass," she said, and I wondered if she really believed that.

"I'd better get started on chores," I said, and stood up to go.

"See you at supper," she said.

"See you," I echoed, and headed downstairs. Hannah was coming thru the back door at the kitchen, Isaac in one arm, and

a bag of groceries in the other.

"Hi," she said, looking distracted.

"Hi."

"How was your day?" she asked, going to sit the bag on the counter.

"It was okay," I said, thinking that she looked as though her mind was a hundred different places.

"Have you seen Clare?" she asked me, then.

"Yeah. She's resting. She was sick a little while ago."

"Oh, " Hannah said, sounding regretful.

Hannah was looking around, sorting thru the sack of food, and then installed Isaac in his walker.

"Whoo," she said. "I've got to get supper going."

I felt sorry for Hannah. She had so much to do around here.

"I'd help," I told her. "But I've got to do chores-"

"I know, sweetie," she said, patting my arm and still sounding distracted. "You go on."

I went out, going to feed the goats, and thinking about everything that was going on around here. The shower for Nancy was in four days,

and then the wedding was looming on the horizon. All here at the house, with all the work that that entailed. And then the cabin had to

be made livable. And Clare was pregnant, and feeling so lousy. Who knew how long she was going to feel that way? She wouldn't be able to

help much.

When I was done with my chores, I began on Guthrie's. I discovered that he'd already done some. I smiled to myself. That was

like him, to do that before he went to help Evan, and not to tell me.

And that did free up some time. Or so I thought. That was until I heard the Jeep coming, and Crane was driving across the pasture.

He pulled up in front of the barn, and got out, disappearing into one of the sheds.

I was closing the corral gate, where I'd been checking the water in the trough, when Crane came back out of the shed.

I walked over to where he was.

"Hi," I greeted him.

"Hey, kiddo. Have you seen the level?"

I knew what that was. Ever since I was a little girl, I'd found that particular tool sort of interesting.

"No. I haven't seen in it."

"Hmm," he said, looking thoughtful.

"What do you need it for?" I asked.

"At the cabin."

"Oh."

He looked at me, giving me his full attention. "How was the anatomy test?"

"I got a B-," I told him, without fanfare.

He nodded. "Good."

"How is it good?" I protested. "I was going to get an A. Mr. Fornelli said I did well, except I was too vague on the essay

question part."

"Did you do your best?" Crane asked me, pointedly.

"I thought I did."

"Did you do your best?" he repeated, stronger. More insistent.

"Yes," I said, and sighed.

"Alright, then," he said, as if that was the end of it.

"I've got to find that level, and get back up there," he said then. "Are you coming along?"

"I don't know," I said, hesitating. "I need to take care of Pepe, and feed the dogs and cats, and then I think Hannah

could use my help inside. Clare's really feeling sick again."

"A lot going on around here," Crane agreed. "Maybe you had ought to help out inside."

7

And, so, that's what I did. I fed all four of the dogs. The three bigger ones by the barn, and Fat Clarence at the back door. He gets

special treatment from me. I fed the cats, too. They were really growing by now, and I'm not supposed to overfeed them, so that way they

will help with any mice.

After that, I spent a few minutes with Pepe, taking him out of his hutch, and holding him, talking to him. Wearing gloves, per Adam's

order. I noticed that the hole in the roof of the hutch was getting bigger. I gave it a look, wondering if Pepe was making it bigger.

Did skunks do that? Chew at things?

I put him away, thinking I would ask one of the boys to help patch the hole.

I went inside, and pitched in to help Hannah get supper on the table.

7


	26. And the race is on

I went back inside the house, and down to the basement to begin my laundry that I'd brought home from the vet office.

Plan awry. The dryer was filled with dried clothes, and both of the washers with wet ones that needed to be dried. I sighed. Hannah

was really having trouble keeping up with things.

I took the dried clothes out, and heaped them onto the top of the dryer, and put half of the wet ones in. Then I started my own.

I stuffed the dried jeans and shirts of various brothers into one of the big baskets, and toted it upstairs. Hannah was on the cordless phone

that we'd only just gotten the week before. She was talking, and stirring a big pot of something on the stove, while Isaac zoomed all

over the kitchen.

I rubbed the baby's head, and went to get down plates and glasses from the cabinet, to begin setting the table.

I was laying out silverware when I heard Nancy's voice, hollering from the front door.

I stepped thru as she came in.

"Hey," she greeted me. She held up a sack. "Ready to try on your dress? I need to see if we have any more alterations to

make."

"I can," I told her. "Are you staying for supper?"

"I can," she echoed, with a grin. "Where's Evan? Still outside?"

"He's working at the cabin," I said, and Nancy's face lit up.

"Is he?" she said, as if I'd said that Evan had just discovered a new wonder drug or something.

"Can we do the dress after supper?" I asked her. "Things are crazy around here, and I'm helping Hannah."

"Sure. I can help," she said, as we went back to the kitchen. Hannah was off the phone, but Isaac was fussing for her to

pick him up, and she was slicing a loaf of homemade bread.

"Hi," she said, smiling at Nancy.

"Hi. I'm reporting for duty. What can I do to help?" Nancy asked.

"You can finish with the bread, and help Harlie get things on the table. The guys should be heading in really soon. I'll take

Isaac the Grouch upstairs and get him changed," Hannah told her.

"Okay," Nancy said, running her hand over Isaac's cheek with affection.

Between the two of us, we got everything on the table as McFadden males began pouring into the kitchen.

Brian headed upstairs. To check on Clare, I supposed. The others were all washing up, and milling around the kitchen. Nancy

and Evan were huddled in a hug.

"Aw, break it up," Guthrie said, giving Evan a shove.

"Where's Hannah?" Adam asked me, turning from the sink and drying his hands.

"She's changing Isaac."

Everybody was in their places at the table, when Brian and Clare came down the back stairs.

To me, Clare still looked pale, but she seemed a little perkier as she greeted everybody. The phone began ringing then, and

Guthrie got up to answer the new one, there in the kitchen.

"Crane-it's for you," he said, and handed it off to Crane.

So, Crane got up to go talk in a corner of the kitchen, as Hannah came down, carrying the baby.

Finally, everybody started eating. Beef stew, and homemade bread. I picked at my stew, eating the meat and the broth, but

leaving a bunch of the vegetables. Hannah's homemade bread is so good, that I ate three pieces.

The phone began ringing again, and Adam said, "This is why I didn't want a darn phone in the kitchen."

That particular call was from one of the ladies from church, asking about the time of the bridal shower on Sunday.

I heard the dogs set up a squall of barking, and started to get up.

"Sit and eat," Hannah told me.

"They're barking at something," I insisted.

"Probably a squirrel," Evan said.

I sat back down, but only just, as the barking intensified. Crane got up and went to the back door, and a second later,

he said, "Harlie. Looks like your skunk is loose."

"What?!" I said, in panic. I got up and ran past Crane, outside, while most everybody else followed. At first everybody

just stood there.

"Where is he?" Adam asked Crane.

"He was there a minute ago," Crane said, pointing to the edge of the house.

Warrior was barking, and so was Jethro Bodine, and they both were running, while Fat Clarence just sat, letting out a bark

every now and then.

I scrambled to chase after the dogs. I didn't know about Jethro, but Warrior would kill Pepe.

Guthrie sped past me, on a run, and I hollered after him, "Put your dog up!"

"I've got the dogs," Brian said, and collared Warrior. Adam caught Jethro and they hauled them off, probably to the shed.

I came around the side of the house, just in time to see Pepe disappearing again.

"Bat shit!" I swore.

"He's goin' under the porch!" Guthrie was hollering.

Too late. I saw Pepe's striped behind just as he went into the broken lattice around the porch.

I dropped to my knees and peered under the darkness of the porch.

"You see him?" Guthrie asked me, dropping beside me.

"No. I need a flashlight," I said.

"I'll get one," I heard Nancy say.

I laid on my stomach, inching under the porch. "Pull the lattice back," I told Guthrie.

"Let me get under there," Guthrie told me.

"No. He'll come to me," I insisted.

"How about a treat or something?" I heard Hannah say from behind me. "Would that help?"

"Maybe," I said, inching under a little more. "A piece of fruit would be good."

"The lattice is off in a spot on the other side," Adam said. "Guthrie, you go on that side so he doesn't slip out there."

So Guthrie got up from his spot beside me, and went to the other side.

By now, Nancy had brought back the flashlight, and somebody's hand gave it to me. I turned it on, and flashed it around

the underneath of the porch. I could see Pepe in the center, maybe about six or eight feet from where I was.

I began to talk to him, and inch forward on my belly.

I felt a hand holding my ankle. "Far enough," Adam said.

"I've got to reach him," I protested.

"Let's try the fruit," Adam said. "See if you can lure him out that way."

On the other end, Guthrie was pulling on the lattice, and I could see his face peeking thru.

Pepe, hearing the tearing of the wood, acted nervous.

"Quit, Guthrie! You're scaring him!" I said.

"I gotta be able to see in here," Guthrie protested.

"Adam said there was already a hole! Stop making it bigger!" I said.

"You want me to quit helpin' you?" Guthrie threatened.

"If you can't do it right, then yes!" I told him.

I could see Brian now, beside Guthrie on the other side.

"Likely it's the two of you yelling back and forth that's scaring him," Brian pointed out.

"Here," I heard Hannah saying, and Adam's hand supplied me with a couple pieces of apple.

"Take some to the other side," I heard Adam tell her.

"He's only going to come to me," I said. "Guthrie's making too much noise."

Adam had crouched down and I felt his hand on my lower back. "Guthrie's trying to help," he said, sounding not so

happy with me. "Stop being like that."

I swallowed the words I wanted to say. This was upsetting. First, it was only going to promote the thoughts of Pepe

being a lot of trouble. And how had he gotten out of his hutch? And, what if we didn't catch him? He wouldn't survive the

night, even under the porch. The dogs would get to him.

I shone the flashlight onto Pepe again. He'd gone closer to the other side, and Guthrie was holding out a piece of apple, and making

a sort of clucking noise, trying to convince Pepe to come closer.

"He's not a horse," I said. "That's the sound you make to a horse to start him walking."

"He's comin', isn't he?" Guthrie said, as Pepe was nearly to him. Guthrie reached out to grab Pepe, and then to scoot out, backwards,

on his belly.

"My shirt's caught on a nail or somethin'," he said, and I heard Brian tell Guthrie to hand Pepe to him.

By now, Pepe was making his high anxious sound, and I scuttled out from under the porch, as fast as I could, going

quickly around to meet Brian, who was on his feet, holding Pepe.

"Damn it, he bit me," I heard Brian say.

Brian was holding Pepe by the scruff of his neck. He was making loud sounds.

"I'll take him," I said, reaching out.

"He's already bitten me," Brian said. "Let me hold onto him. No sense to you getting bitten, too."

"He won't bite me," I insisted, but my protest fell on deaf ears.

"Let's get him back in his hutch," Adam was saying. Some of the family, now that Pepe was caught, had gone back into

the house. Only Brian, Adam, Guthrie and I were left.

We made a quick walk to the barn, where Brian reinstalled Pepe into the hutch. The door had been closed, and

they began puzzling over how Pepe had gotten out.

"I closed the door," I insisted.

"Well, how did he get out?" Adam asked again.

"Maybe the hole," I said, in thought.

"What hole?" Adam said, jumping on that immediately.

I reached up and touched the hole in the top of the hutch. It was definitely larger than earlier.

"This one," I said, and both he and Brian began to peer at the hole.

"How'd this happen?" Brian demanded.

"I don't know," I said, and when they both gave me what I felt was accusatory looks, I felt defensive.

"Well, I don't," I insisted.

"He's probably chewed it out," Brian said.

That made me feel bad. Poor Pepe. So desperate to escape that he'd chewed a hole in the hutch.

"Let's find a couple shingles and tack them up for there for now," Adam said.

"I'll grab some," Guthrie said, and disappeared.

The three of us stood there, and I felt even worse when Adam leaned over and looked at Brian's thumb.

"Bleeding a little," he said.

"Yeah," Brian said, lifting his thumb to inspect it.

I felt as though I had to apologize for Pepe's actions.

"He was just scared, Bri," I said. "He wouldn't bite, otherwise. He didn't mean it."

"Well, it's alright then, as long as he didn't mean it," Brian said, mocking me.

"Well, imagine how you would feel-" I said. "He's lost his only way to protect himself, since he's descented, and

then the dogs start barking like that at him, and chasing him. Put yourself in his place."

"Putting myself into a skunk's shoes, that's a new one for me," Brian said.

I thought he didn't sound too upset.

"Go on in, and wash that bite," Adam told him, and I thought how Adam even looked after Brian.

"Alright," Brian said, and headed off.

By now, Guthrie was back, carrying some shingles, and a hammer. He and Adam began slapping the shingles over the hole, and nailing them

down.

When they were done, Guthrie went to put the hammer away again, and I went to get some of the small-sized dog food to put into Pepe's

bowl.

I stood looking at Adam. I was just waiting, really, for him to start listing Pepe's faults.

"You better get in. Shower and homework," he said.

I was so relieved that I didn't say a word, I just trotted along beside him towards the house, and went to stake

my claim on the shower.

7

Later on, I was back downstairs, when Nancy came and found me, reminding me to try on the dress. So, I did, and it

didn't take long for her to look it over with a practiced eye.

"It looks good," she told me. "Perfect."

Since we were in my room, there was no full length mirror, but I figured I could take her word for it.

"Okay, take it off now," she told me, and helped me shimmy out of it.

After she went off to find Evan, and then head home, I went down to the kitchen. I was pouring myself a glass of milk,

and eating a handful of cookies, even though I knew I shouldn't.

Brian came in, pulling a pan out of the lower cabinet.

"Hand me the milk, will you?" he told me.

I did that, going to stand beside him, as he prepared to make his infamous hot cocoa.

"Making some cocoa, huh?" I asked.

"Clare said it sounded good to her."

"Oh."

"She says you made her some tea earlier," Brian said, and his eyes drifted to meet mine. "Thanks for doing that."

"It's okay. I hope she starts feeling better soon."

"Me, too," Brian said.

"Thanks for helping to catch Pepe," I said, figuring it was my turn to thank him now.

"You really need to figure something out with him, peach."

"I know." I saw that his thumb had a bandaid wrapped around it, where Pepe had bitten him.

"Is your thumb alright?" I asked.

"I'll live, I think."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"You're not the one that bit me, are you?" Brian countered my apology.

I gave him a half-smile. "No."

"Well, then."

I decided that if Brian could be nice enough to brush it off that way, then it would be stupid for me to not accept it.

7

For my loyal readers, I don't usually do this, but if you believe and wouldn't mind sending up a prayer or two for me, I would so appreciate it.

I am dealing with a personal crisis at this time. Thank you in advance.


	27. Unprepared

It had been such an eventful evening, full of action and emotions. I went to bed without giving myself my injection. I just totally

forgot it.

In my defense, I've only forgotten it like twice or three times in the whole nearly year since I was diagnosed. I woke up in the

middle of the night, not knowing the time, and it came to me in a rush. That I'd forgotten.

I got out of bed, turning on my lamp, and looked at my clock. Two a.m.

I was going to grab my flashlight, but it wasn't where I'd thought I'd left it at. I left my bedroom light on to shine into the hallway,

and the beginnings of my descent down the stairs. After the light was gone, I felt my way along the wall, down the other stairs.

There was still a low lamp on in the living room. Thank goodness. I wasn't sure why it had been left on. Maybe Crane or Evan

had gone out.

I went on thru to the kitchen, switching on the overhead lights. It could have been all in my mind, but I was feeling shaky. Shobbly.

I began to do my injection, but had to pause. My hands were a little shaky.

Just when I was about to try again, to actually do it, and pierce my skin, there was a scraping at the back door, and a low

voice. I couldn't tell what was said.

I paused, needle in mid-air, feeling my heart thump. Even though, realistically, I knew that it couldn't be anybody up to no good,

a stranger, because the dogs would have alerted.

The screen door creaked as it was opened, and then the wooden one swung open. It was Evan. I let my breath out in a whoosh,

not even realizing until then that I'd been holding it.

"Good grief, Ev," I said, in a low voice. "You scared me to death!"

"What are you doin' up?" he asked, predictably, as he came in, closing the door behind him.

"I woke up," I said shortly, and proceeded to continue giving the injection. "Were you talking to the dogs?"

"Yeah."

Evan was watching me, as he moved around the kitchen, going to take a glass down, and pouring himself a glass

of milk, and then putting the milk jug away again.

"You forgot your shot?" he asked.

I turned to give him an appraising look. With Evan, sometimes it's hard to figure him out, or judge how he's going to react to

something. He might brush off something that others would consider concerning, like he had the night I'd had beer sloshed all over me.

I'd smelled very clearly like alcohol, but I'd told him what happened, and he hadn't said another word about it. Either to me, or to

anyone else.

On the other hand, he might react in a forceful way about something that wasn't what I considered a big deal. And, I'd just as

soon that none of the elder brothers-McFadden knew that I'd forgotten my shot. Or Hannah, either.

So, I said, a casual, "Yeah. Things were crazy around here tonight."

Evan took a drink of the milk. "Yeah. It was."

I finished, and began putting things away again.

"That's real bad, right? You forgetting?" Evan asked, leaning against the counter beside me.

"It's not the best. But, I remembered, so everything's fine," I said shortly, wanting to shut him down.

To help throw off the questions, I asked my own. "How come you're coming in now?"

"I was doing a few things."

I scrutinized him more carefully. His jeans were muddy, and he had what looked like sawdust in his hair and on his shirt.

"Were you up at the cabin?" I asked, shocked. "Now?"

"Yeah." He drained his glass, and set it in the sink.

"Wow, Ev," I said, rubbing at the spot where I'd given my shot.

"I got a lot done," he said.

"That's good. I'll help, too, when I can. I was helping Hannah today-"

"It's okay. Like you said, there's a lot goin' on."

He sighed, sounding tired. "You done? I'll turn off the lights."

"Yeah. I'm finished."

I went out of the kitchen first, and he switched off the light, and then in the living room, he switched off the lamp

and we went up the dark stairs together.

At my door, we parted ways.

"Don't say anything to anybody, okay?" I asked him. "About seeing me do my shot this late."

"About you forgetting it, you mean," he corrected.

I tilted my head at him. "Ev. Please."

"Well, you've got to watch out for that," he said.

Both of us were talking in really low tones.

"I will," I said.

"Okay. 'Night," he said, and trudged off down the hallway towards his own room. I watched him go, thinking that he

was a really wonderful brother.

7

The next morning, I had a dull headache. I told myself it wasn't that bad, and that it didn't have anything to do

with the whole late injection thing.

I took a couple of Tylenol before I went down to breakfast.

Once there, instead of doing chores first, I decided to eat before I went out. I would just try to be careful not to get my

clothes so dirty that I would need to change before school.

I ate wheat toast and a bowl of shredded wheat cereal, and drank some juice. Conversations at the table were, as usual,

varied and enthusiastic.

"You look pale," Hannah said, giving me a once-over.

"I don't know why," I said, sounding breezy. "I'm fine."

"Did you check your levels?" she asked.

"Yes. They're fine."

"As busy as you are, you need to make sure you pay close attention to things, with your diabetes," Hannah went on.

I felt, rather than knew, Evan's eyes and attention on me from across the table, listening.

"I'm going to be very careful," I said. To Hannah, but I meant it for Evan, too.

7

My headache continued throughout the morning at school. And, Mr. Fornelli, in his attempt to be humorous, or whatever,

had the first of those pop quizzes. I was irritated, remembering that he'd had said it would be later in the week for the

quizzes. That's a teacher for you.

So, therefore, I didn't feel that I did well on the quiz. It was over new information, and I hadn't done any reading on it

the evening before. And, Mr. Fornelli, God bless him, was soooo kind as to grade them quickly, handing them back before class was over.

The big, fat D-plus, scratched across the top in bright red, irritated me further.

I was glad to leave school, and I went to the Dari Kurl, and ordered a large chocolate shake, and a large Coke, besides.

I made short work of both the shake, and the Coke. I squashed down the guilt. I got so sick of being 'careful'.

I began to worry. Obsess. What was that D- going to do to my grade now?

I just wished I could go somewhere far away. Just for a little while. To Daniel's. Even as the thought occurred to me, it wasn't as though I meant

to act on it. I wouldn't do that again. No way. But, it would be nice. To visit him, without there being a punishment involved in doing so.

I couldn't seem to shake my thoughts, and discouragement. Or my missing of Daniel.

I went to the phone booth on the corner, and went inside, closing the door. I deposited change, and dialed the number to

Daniel's house, which I had memorized. It rang. And rang. No answer. When the answering machine picked up, I just hung up.

I thought a moment, and then went back to my truck, rifling thru my stuff, until I found the number to the Palamino Club in my

purse. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

I deposited the change again, and dialed the number. It was picked up on the first ring, and the distinctly Southern voice

said 'hello'.

I couldn't tell if it was the same girl that I'd talked to before, and then met when I was in Tennessee.

I asked about Daniel, and miracle of miracles, she said he was there. Somewhere. The receiver was put down, and I waited.

And waited.

Finally, Daniel's voice came over the phone. Crackly.

"Hullo?"

"Hi, Daniel."

"Squirt? Hey, how are you?"

"I'm alright. How are you?"

"Busy. Ran into the damn door, and broke two of my toes last night."

"Oh, no," I said.

"Are you laughing?" he demanded.

"No. Not a bit," I said. It made me feel better, just to hear his voice.

"How come you're not in school?"

"I get out early, remember? The work study program?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I forgot."

"It's okay."

"What's up?" he asked then.

And, then, I didn't know what to say. So much was up.

"I just wanted to say hi," I told him. "Hear your voice."

There was several moments of hesitation on Daniel's end, as though he was thinking.

"What's goin' on?" he asked then, and I knew he meant specifically. Daniel knows me well.

"Just-" I hesitated. "I got a bad grade on a quiz."

"One bad grade?" he said. "Don't let that get you down."

"It's not just this one. I haven't been doing so well in this class, and if it gets worse, they'll kick me out of the work

program."

"Oh," he said.

"Yeah," I sighed, and for another moment there was silence.

"Well, what does Crane say?" he asked.

"He doesn't know about today yet."

"Is the class tough?"

"It is. It shouldn't be, though. It's just me."

"Don't talk like that," he said. "Math is tough for most people."

"It's not math, Daniel. That's the thing. It's Anatomy and Physiology."

"Well, that's known to be a tough class. And it's a Senior class, right?"

"Yeah."

"You're a Junior, squirt. You are way too hard on yourself."

I sighed, and didn't answer right away.

"What else?" he demanded.

"What else what?"

"There's more. Spill it," he ordered.

The 'deposit more money' recording came across. I hurriedly reached for more coins.

"Hang on, okay?" I told him.

I deposited the change requested, and then said, "Are you still there?"

"Right here. So, what else is botherin' you?"

"It's-" I hesitated. "Having stupid diabetes."

"Aw, squirt," he said, in sympathy, his voice kind.

I fell tears welling up in my eyes. "I'm just having a bad day," I told him. "Don't pay any attention to me. What

have you been doing?"

My attempt at changing the direction of the conversation fell flat.

"I'm good," Daniel said, shortly. "Here's what I think. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Talk to some other kids your age that have diabetes. One of those groups. Clare knows about that, doesn't she? She could

point you in the right direction. Then you'd be able to learn other ways of dealing, and you wouldn't feel so alone in it all."

I was quiet, and he prompted, "Did you hear me?"

"I hear you. It's an okay idea."

"But, you don't think it would help, right?" he countered.

"It might," I conceded.

"You could try it. Once you meet some other girls your age that deal with it, you wouldn't have to go to meetings. You could

talk on the phone with them and stuff."

What he was saying did make good sense.

"Okay. I'll look into it," I told him.

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Good. I don't know what to say about the grade thing," he went on.

"It's okay. You know about the baby, right?"

"Yeah. I talked to Brian last night, late. It's great, I'm happy for them."

"How long are you going to be able to stay, when you come for the wedding?" I asked.

"I'm shooting for a week. Hopefully."

Just thinking about that made me feel warm inside.

"I'd better get going to the vet office," I told him. "And you need to get back to rehearsal, right?"

"When you're done talkin' to me, yeah."

Even warmer and fuzzier, inside, at that comment. Daniel was the best.

"I'm okay. I feel better."

"Sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure. You helped, Daniel. Really."

"Okay. I'll try to call you this weekend, alright?"

"That would be great," I said.

"Alright. Talk to you later, then. Find out about that diabetes group thing, okay?"

"I will."

"Love ya."

"Love you more," I told him.

And, then, the connection between Tennessee and California was broken. On the telephone wire, anyway. What he'd said to me,

the love and concern I'd heard in his voice, well, that wasn't broken. I carried it with me.

7

After I'd left Ivy's, and was headed home, I was feeling tired. Maybe from the physical activity at the vet office. We had been

busy, and had cleaned the entire barn, shoveling it out and putting in fresh hay.

Or maybe I was tired because I still had a nagging headache, and emotional.

I was nearly home, on the country roads by now, and I pulled the Anatomy quiz out of my backpack, holding it up

and reading over the answers that were marked wrong. Dumb, I know. It should have been fine. There's hardly any traffic on

this road. And, I wasn't reading continually. I kept looking up from the paper, and then back down. Up. Down.

Maybe I was going a little too fast. Especially considering that I was attempting to read while I drove.

And, then it happened. I was holding the paper in my left hand, and on the steering wheel, and using I my right hand to shake

the paper out, turning to the second page. I was shaking the paper, the wind coming in my window, when the second page

came loose, and blew to the other side of the truck seat. Before it ended up on the floorboard, I made a grab for it, and then

I don't know, I just lost control.

I stomped on the brakes and swerved to the right. Actually the swerving occurred first, and then the braking, which

was too late, really. The truck lodged into the ditch, the front half of it dipping down.

I wasn't wearing a seat belt, either, and I put my arm up to protect my head, in instinct.

Even still, it was a jolt, and I bumped my head a little. When the truck came to a stop, my nose was bleeding. I did a quick inventory, and that seemed to be

it. I grabbed a somewhat clean t-shirt, left in the seat, and held it to my nose. I tried to open my door, and get out, but the truck was

in the ditch good and proper, and the bottom of the truck door was held closed by dirt or mud.

I half-stood, to lean out my open window. Yeah, the front tire was only half-visible.

I crawled out the window, and sank to my knees, working to clear the bottom of the door. When I had an inch or two of leeway there,

I began on the dirt and mud around the left tire. When I'd given it my best effort, I got back into the truck.

I put the truck in reverse, counted to three, and gunned it, hard, like I'd seen my brothers do over the years when they

were stuck.

The tires spun, and the truck rocked back and forth, but...nothing. It was still in the same spot. I took some deep breaths, and

gave it another try. Accelerator to the floor. Nada.

I sat there, and I guess it hit me fully then. I wasn't going to be able to get out of the ditch on my own. I was covered in mud

and dirt by now, and blood had dripped onto my shirt. I don't wear a watch, so I didn't how long I'd been sitting there for certain.

I remembered how Brian always talked about putting traction under tires. What could I use for traction. Gravel, maybe?

I had to try. I much preferred taking care of this myself, as opposed to any of the family finding out. I would have to explain

how this whole debacle had happened, and this was coming just on the heels of Adam telling me a couple days ago to

not be reading that worksheet while I was driving. He'd made a big deal about it, too. Making me put it away in my backpack,

and telling me to leave it there, and all that. If he found out that I'd been doing that very thing, reading while driving, well, it made my stomach

curl up with nerves, just thinking about it.

I got back out, and found a cup that I'd been drinking coffee out of earlier. That was all I had to scoop gravel with.

I took cup after cup of gravel from the road, and down the incline, to toss it under the two front tires. It seemed to take forever,

and the gravel just seemed to disappear into the mud.

I got back in, took a deep breath, and gunned the motor again, trying to back up and out of the ditch.

7


	28. Lies and dishes

I did that several more times. Gunned the motor, foot to the floor, and then I began to smell something hot. I stopped then, feeling

more nervous. What if I'd done damage to my truck, by gunning it like that, so many times?

I knew I had to be at least an hour late by now. Hannah, for sure would be noticing my non-arrival at home by now. Maybe

more than Hannah. It would depend on if any of my brothers were working near to the house, and noticed the time. Or if they

needed me to do something, they'd miss me for sure then.

There was nothing to be done for it. Except set off walking to home. And get some help. Help in the form of a tall brother, or two,

complete with broad shoulders that could shovel some traction beneath my truck tires that would be successful. Or the same brothers,

with a log chain, and a tractor.

I practiced all the way, while I walked, as to how I would explain this whole thing. How I would answer the inevitable questions.

I was really struggling with whether to lie or not. I could, I thought, tell them that a deer, or a fox or something had run

in front of me, and I'd ended up in the ditch.

That was a believable scenerio, one that they would likely accept. After all, it had happened to a couple of them before. Maybe they

hadn't gone in the ditch, but they'd swerved to miss a deer, etc.

If I told the truth of it, well, the thought made my blood run cold. Adam would yell, and take away my driving privileges, and

Brian would yell, and ask me just how dumb did I think I could be, and threaten to tan my rear end. Crane would-well, he might not yell, but he wouldn't be

happy. He'd have his own way of dealing with it.

I just couldn't risk it. I needed to have my own way to get places. To work at the vet office, and everything. There would be lots of

errands with the wedding and all that. I needed to have driving privileges.

I was nearly to the end of our long driveway, when I saw the Jeep barreling my way. I stepped over to the side, and waited,

as Brian roared up beside me, and braked.

"What happened?" he demanded. "Flat tire?"

"No. It's in the ditch."

"How far?"

"A mile or so."

"Well, get in," he said.

I knew I had to let him know that he wouldn't be able to accomplish this easily.

"It's pretty stuck," I said. "Probably gonna need a shovel. Or a log chain."

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think so."

"Well, get in," he told me, and when I'd gone to the other side, and climbed in, he did a U-turn at the end of the driveway,

heading back to the house and barns.

"What happened?" he asked, over the wind as we sped up the driveway.

Here it was. The moment of truth. Or the moment of non-truth. Which would it be? And it was Brian of all people that

was asking first. Lying to Brian is-well, it's a very bad idea.

"There was a deer," I said, and like a child, I justified in my head. After all, there was surely a deer. Somewhere. Not too

far away.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Is that blood?" he asked then, gesturing to my shirt.

"Just a nosebleed," I told him.

He gave me a look-over, but said no more about me being hurt. He parked in front of the barn, and got out.

"You go find a couple of shovels," he told me. "I'll get the log chain."

"Okay," I said, and headed to the barn, while Brian went in the direction of one of the sheds.

I found two shovels, no problem, and was headed back to the Jeep, when I saw Brian, the log chain over his shoulder,

deep in conversation with Adam. Adam had his leather fencing gloves on, and was holding a roll of barb wire in one hand.

Well, bat shit! I'd hoped it would be just Brian and I, that knew about it, until we got the truck back home.

I put the shovels in the back of the Jeep, and turned to face them as they were nearly to it, as well.

"You alright?" Adam asked, the first thing. His forehead was wrinkled with worry.

"Yes. I'm fine," I assured him.

"Did you bump your head?" he asked then.

"Just a little. Just bumped my nose," I said, reaching up to touch the end of my nose.

"You better go on inside," Adam said. "Let Hannah or Clare look you over."

"I'm alright. I want to go, and help get it out," I insisted.

"Brian and I'll get it. Go on," Adam ordered.

So, I went inside, and slipped up the stairs to change to clean clothes, and make sure all the blood was wiped off my

face. Then I went back downstairs, where Hannah and Clare were both busy in the kitchen, cutting up vegetables, while Crane

was at the stove, making hamburgers.

"Hi," I said quietly.

"There you are," Hannah greeted me. "Brian was going to come looking for you-"

"I met him at the end of the driveway," I told her.

"You're late today," Hannah went on, chopping at a stalk of celery.

"Ivy have a busy afternoon?" Crane asked, turning to look at me.

"We were busy," I said, and then decided I might as well get it done, and over.

"I'm mostly late because I went in the ditch," I said, and immediately Hannah began.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. Fine. I just couldn't get it out myself, so Brian and Adam went to try."

"What happened?" Hannah asked, and I hesitated, going to get a glass down from the cabinet, and going to the sink.

"There was a deer," I repeated, keeping my back to all three of them, as I filled the glass with water, and stood there, drinking

it all down.

"Oh," Hannah said, and I looked at Crane, even though I tried not to. He didn't seem to be thinking anything much of

what I'd said.

"You hit him?" he asked.

"No."

"That's good," he added, flipping one of the hamburgers.

I looked at Clare, and said, to change the direction of conversation, "How are you feeling?"

"Better. Lots better," Clare said. She sighed a little. "At least for right now, anyway."

"Hopefully you're through the worst of it," Hannah said, soothingly.

"I'm going to do chores," I said, in a general way, and headed outside.

I was midway thru my chores, when Guthrie joined me, coming over to hang on the fence to the goat pen.

"Hey," he greeted me, eating a Three Musketeers candy bar.

"Hey." I gave Elwood P. Dowd a push so I could get past him.

"Where's your truck?" he asked me.

"In the ditch."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Brian and Adam went to get it out."

"What happened?" he asked.

I held the feed bucket, empty now, in one hand, studying Guthrie. It's habit to always share stuff with Guthrie. We've never

told on each other, not even if we were mad at one another.

"I told Brian-and everybody-there was a deer, and that I swerved," I said.

Guthrie hooked his arms over the fence. And waited.

"I was reading over something-" I admitted. "My anatomy quiz." I sighed. "Which I got a dismal grade on."

"Man, Har," Guthrie said, sounding sympathetic.

"Yeah." I sighed again.

"Did you do any damage to the truck?" Guthrie asked then, and I frowned. I hadn't considered that going in the ditch

would do any damage. Though if I thought about it, it made sense. I had hit it pretty forcibly.

"I don't know," I said, fretting. "The front was stuck in pretty good. I never even thought of that."

"It's probably okay," Guthrie said.

"I hope."

He was looking at me, and I thought I knew what he was thinking. "I know. You don't think I should have lied about the deer. Right?"

Guthrie shrugged. "I dunno."

"Adam just got done a couple days ago telling me not to read something while I was driving. If they knew-" I let my voice trail off.

"I know."

"I talked to Daniel," I said, changing the subject.

"Yeah? What's up with him?" Guthrie asked, opening the gate for me to come thru.

Guthrie and I talked then about Daniel, and other stuff, as we finished up his chores together.

I was beginning to really wonder about Adam, and Brian, and how they were doing with getting my truck home, when

they came up the road in front of the house. My truck in front, Brian driving, and Adam behind, driving the Jeep. It seemed to me that

Brian was coming along fine, at a good clip. There must not be any damage.

I went quickly to meet them, as they drove up, and parked.

There was a good accumulation of mud and muck over the grill of the truck in front, so I couldn't tell much.

Neither Brian nor Adam had said anything as of yet, and I looked at them, wondering if I should be worried.

"Was it bad?" I asked, to make conversation. "Hard to get out?"

"You had it in there pretty darn good," Brian said, reaching into the bed of my truck to lift out the log chain.

"Did you have to use the chain?" I asked then.

"Yeah," Brian said.

"Oh," I said, sort of lamely.

"Get the shovels out and put them up," Adam told me. I thought he sounded sort of curt, but I was hoping he was

just tired, or thinking about something.

"Okay," I said, and went to grab both shovels from the Jeep and take them to the barn. I stood them in a corner, and

went back out. They were both crouched down in front of my truck, looking things over. Brian kept knocking chunks of mud

off.

"I didn't hurt it, did I?" I asked. "I mean, it's driving okay, right?"

"It's alright," Brian said, standing up, and swiping his hands on his jeans. "A couple of dents, but drives okay."

"That's good," I said, letting out a whoosh of air in relief.

I noticed how dirty and muddy their jeans were.

"Thank you, both of you, for getting it out for me," I said.

They both were standing up now, and regarding me with serious looks.

"Clare take a look at you?" Brian asked me. "Make sure you're alright?"

"Um, no," I said. "They were busy getting vegetables cut up. I'm really fine, you guys. I am. It was just a bloody nose."

"Buck?" Adam asked me, sort of quietly, and I looked at him, startled.

"What?"

"Was it a buck? That ran in front of you?"

I hesitated, just for the slightest of moments. "I don't know-it happened pretty fast."

"Mmm," Adam said, in acknowledgement.

"Yeah," I said, and rubbed my palms on my jeans. My hands were all sweaty.

Hannah came out the front door then and called out to us, telling us that supper was ready.

7

Just as we were preparing to go inside, Brian opened the passenger door.

"You gonna grab your stuff?" he asked me.

"Oh. Yeah," I said, and hurriedly snatched up my backpack, and the t-shirt that I'd used with my bloody nose.

"Here," Brian said, and leaned over a bit, picking up the anatomy page off the floorboard of the truck. The page that I'd been

grabbing for when this whole thing happened.

"Thanks," I said, avoiding his eye, and Adam's, as well.

We all went inside then, and washed up before sitting down at the table.

Evan's chair was empty, and Crane said that Evan had headed up to the line cabin, to work.

"He's gonna wear himself out," Brian said.

"Yeah. We need to work it so that at least one of us can help him for awhile every day," Adam added.

"I can go up there after I get done eatin'," Guthrie said, reaching for the ketchup.

"Homework, Guth," Crane said.

"All I have is an English worksheet. I can go help Evan, and still get back to get it done," Guthrie said.

Nobody really responded, and Guthrie said, in a general way, "Alright?"

"It's fine," Adam said, and then added, "There just doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day lately."

"It's been busy," Hannah agreed. "And only going to get busier."

"We really need to see what all that they might need up there," Clare said.

"I'm sure it needs to be painted," Hannah said.

"We can muster up some furniture for them, can't we?" Adam said, looking around the table.

"We should be able to," Hannah said.

After that, they started talking about the refreshments for the shower on Sunday.

As everybody was finishing up, Adam came up behind my chair. "Come on over here," he said to me, motioning me

towards where he stood beside the sink.

"What?" I asked, not moving.

"Never mind what. Just come over here," he ordered.

I went to where he stood, and he held up his index finger, moving it back and forth, and telling me to follow it with my

eyes.

"It was just a bloody nose," I protested.

"Harlie," he said, sounding irritated.

I tracked his finger with my eyes. By now, Clare was standing there, as well, and it seemed as though everybody's attention was

on me.

"Do you have a headache?" Clare asked me.

"No," I assured her.

"I'll see you all later," Guthrie said, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and preparing to head out the back door.

"Don't stay up there past eight o'clock," Adam told him. "Even if Evan stays, you head back."

Guthrie hollered back an 'okay!'

I was on dish duty. Crane and I.

"Do you feel like helping with the dishes?" Hannah asked me, pausing beside the sink as Crane ran hot water, and I was clearing the

table. "If you do have a headache, I'll do it-"

"I'm fine," I told her.

Isaac was latched onto her hip, like a little monkey, and I knew she had tons of things to still do before the day was over.

When she'd gone, as had everybody else, to finish up work for the day, Crane and I began on the dishes.

I was quiet, more so than normal, anyway. I was thinking things over in my mind. All my thoughts were running together

in a muddle.

"You're quiet tonight," Crane said. "You seem a little bit down, too."

I looked at him, a little startled. I hadn't realized that he'd been observing me.

"It was one of those days," I said, trying to sound casual. "You know."

"Anything in particular?" he asked.

I hesitated, and then said, in a burst, "I'm sick of having diabetes, that's for sure."

Crane was giving me a half-sympathetic, half-censorious look. Or, so I thought, anyway.

"I know it's not easy for you," he said.

"Nope. It's for sure not easy," I muttered.

"What happened today to bring it to the front like this?"

"Nothing happened," I said, drying a handful of silverware, and plunking them into the drawer noisily.

"Even when it's tough, it's not going to help to feel sorry for yourself," he said quietly.

I paused, in my plunking of forks and spoons, to look up at him. "I don't see why it's a crime to feel sorry for myself

once in a awhile," I said, feeling all wrought up. I was tired, and all edgy about going into the ditch. I was feeling guilty

about lying, and worried about if they found out that I'd been lying. Then, as if that wasn't enough, there was that big, fat D-

that I'd gotten today in Anatomy class. Crane would just loooove to hear about that.

"Harlie," he said, in quiet reproval.

"Well, you asked me what was bothering me, and I told you, that's all," I said, feeling as though I was going to start bawling.

"You're right," he said, even quieter. "I did ask."

I swept my gaze up to his face. Even though he answered that way, all calm and accepting, I could tell by his expression that

he didn't approve of my whining.

"I guess that will make you not want to ask me anymore, won't it?" I said. I said it pretty quietly, but with enough attitude still,

that Crane raised his eyebrows at me.

"Hey, now," he said. "There's no reason for that."

I turned away, shoving more silverware into the drawer.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were deliberately trying to make me mad at you," Crane said.

I muttered under my breath again, this time lower, and he said, "What?"

I turned to face him, and sighed. "I said, 'I'm not going to have to try anymore, because you will be mad at me'," I repeated.

"Why?" he asked, his voice still even.

"Because I failed a quiz in Anatomy today," I said shortly, bluntly.

Crane gave me a long, silent look, and then he let the water drain out of the sink, reaching for the towel that I'd tossed aside.

He began drying his hands then, and turned so that he was leaning against the sink, facing me.

"Where is it?" he asked then, finally. "Do you have it?"

"Yeah, I have it," I said, wondering what on earth he was asking that for.

"Did you study?"

"It was a pop quiz."

"Was it reading that you could have done?" he persisted.

I sighed. He was relentless.

"Yes. It was reading I could have done," I said, woodenly, almost as though I was talking in a monotone.

He was quiet again, and then said, "Well, it's definitely not going to help things."

I very nearly said something flip and sarcastic, like, 'You think?' or something like that. But, I knew I better had not.

I settled for a sigh, and said, "Nope."

"Go get it, so I can look at it," he said then.

"You really want to see a big, giant, red D, huh?" I asked, with another sigh.

"D or an F?" he asked.

I knew what he was getting at. "It's a D. But it might as well be an F."

Crane didn't respond to that. He said, "Go get it, and bring your Anatomy book, too. You can read ahead a chapter, and

then I'll ask you some questions. See if you can't be a little more prepared for the next one."

"I don't see the point," I said, in a defeatist tone. "It's hopeless. Why waste the time?"

With a suddenness that caught me off-guard, Crane reached for my arm, pulling me over more in front of him.

"That's enough," he said, in a tone that for Crane, is sharp.

I was blinking up at him, and my eyes began to tear up.

"I'm sorry-" I began.

He gave me a slight shake. "You might be. But, you're going to be considerably sorrier if you don't knock off this

whiny, bratty attitude. Got it?"

I had been, quite effectively, put into my place. "Yes-" I answered, and swiped at my cheek with my hand.

Crane regarded me with sternness for another moment or so, and then he sighed, too, and pulled me into a hug.

I responded to that hug immediately. I needed it. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and pressed my face

into his chest.

We were still standing there like that, in a silent hug, when Brian opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. On his face,

there was a dark scowl. And, in his hands, there was Pepe.

7


	29. Inquisition

Immediately I pushed free of Crane's arm, and went towards Brian.

"What's wrong with Pepe?" I asked him.

"Nothing is wrong with Pepe," Brian said, still scowling. "Pepe is just fine, and having a high old time creating havoc."

"What?" I asked, touching Pepe's head gently with my fingers.

"He chewed another hole in the hutch, and was out, stirring the horses up," Brian said.

"They didn't know what to make of him, huh?" Crane asked, sounding amused.

"Darn skunk walking around like he owns the place," Brian said. "That hutch needs to be patched up, and I don't have

time tonight. What are you gonna do with him?"

I thought quickly. "I could put him in the basement," I said, and added quickly, "For tonight, I mean."

"That's lovely," Brian said, with thinly veiled sarcasm. "In the house."

"He uses the litter box, Bri," I reminded him.

"Well, hurry up and decide somethin'," Brian told me. "I've got stuff to finish up."

"Here, I'll hold him," Crane said, taking Pepe from Brian. "Harlie, go get his box and litter and food and stuff, and bring it down

to the basement."

"Okay," I said, taking off before Brian could change his mind. Or before Hannah could find out, and put a stop to it.

7

By the time I got back to the house with all Pepe's supplies, and came in the back door again, Adam was there, pouring himself

a cup of coffee. As I burst thru the door, my arms full of all the stuff, he raised his eyebrow at me.

"What's all that?" he asked me.

"It's for Pepe," I said, and at his increasing look of confusion, I told him briefly what was happening.

"It's just for tonight," I finished hurriedly.

Adam sighed, looking weary.

"Alright," he said, and I escaped down the stairs to the basement. Crane was leaning against the freezer downstairs,

watching, as Pepe made his way around the room, investigating things.

I got his box ready for him, in one of the corners and filled up his food and water dishes. Then I stood there with Crane, watching

as Pepe happily seemed to make himself at home.

"He likes it," I said.

"I'm sure he thinks it's better than that hutch," Crane agreed.

It made me feel better, somehow, just seeing Pepe walking around the corner of the basement. He was making his contented sound.

"Better warn everybody," Crane said. "So nobody gets startled when they come down here for something."

7

I would have stayed longer downstairs with Pepe, because I was really enjoying watching him walk around freely. But, Crane

told me to come on along upstairs, so we could do the Anatomy reading, and he could look over my quiz.

We did the reading, sitting on one end of the couch. After I read the chapter, Crane did ask me some questions over it,

and I was able to answer most of them. He didn't really mention anything more to me about the D on the quiz, other than to say,

"There's no wiggle room now, kiddo. You'll need to pretty much Ace everything from here on out, or the work program is

going to be a bust."

7

I was upstairs, after my shower, and was brushing out my wet hair, when I heard Guthrie coming up the stairs. I stepped out

into the hall to talk to him.

"How's Evan doing up there?" I asked. "Is he getting a lot done?"

"Yeah, he is. It looks totally different already," Guthrie said.

"I can't wait to get up there and see it. And help," I said.

"Yeah." Guthrie stood there, looking at me. "Hey," he said, then, in a low voice. "Just a heads up. I think Adam's coming to

talk to you."

Instantly, I felt panicky. "Why?" I asked.

"I dunno. I sort of walked into the conversation, so I didn't hear much. Just heard him sayin' that he was going to talk to you."

"Oh," I said, feeling my stomach knot up.

"Yeah," Guthrie said, looking sympathetic.

"Who was he talking to?" I asked then. That might provide a clue, as to the degree of 'badness' to this upcoming conversation.

"Brian. And Hannah."

"Oh," I said, again, my hopes sinking further. "Did he sound mad?"

"No, not really. Just-" Guthrie hesitated, thinking. "Just serious. Intense. You know."

Yeah, unfortunately, I did know, exactly what Guthrie meant.

7

After Guthrie went on, to take his claim on the shower, I went back into my bedroom, and closed the door. This

had been a horrible day. The only bright spots I could think of were talking to Daniel, and Pepe being in the basement. Well,

and the hug Crane had given me had been okay. And now, I had to sit here and wait for Adam to come up here and

"talk" to me. It had to be about me going into the ditch, I thought. Was he suspicious of what I'd told them?

By the time another half-hour had gone by and he hadn't appeared, I wished that he would just come already, and get

it over with. Whatever it was.

Finally, he did. I was trying to read my newest novel from the library, just to keep my mind on something else.

There was a light rap on my door, and I sat up straighter, in the center of my bed, my legs criss-crossed.

"Come in," I said.

Adam opened the door and came in. He closed the door behind him, and I wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

"Ready for bed?" he asked, and I thought he sounded calm enough.

"Uh huh."

"Do your shot yet?"

"Yes. Before I took my shower."

"Okay."

I watched, thinking that if he went to my desk, and pulled the straight backed chair out to sit on, then I was done for.

He didn't. Instead, he came over and sat down on the edge of my bed.

"I thought we'd talk for a few minutes," he said.

"Okay," I said, trying not to look nervous.

"I'd like to know a little more about what happened today," he began. "When you were driving home."

I hesitated, looking at him. "Okay."

"Tell me about how it happened," he said.

I felt more panicked. How was I to answer that?

"I don't know what to say, really," I told him, trying to think. "I was driving-and then I swerved-" I let my voice sort of

trail away.

"When he jumped out and surprised you," Adam added. He didn't really state it as a question. More as an assumption.

What was this? It was like he wanted me to verify. To maintain my story. To incriminate myself.

"Yeah," I said.

"Were you driving too fast, do you think?"

I hesitated again, biting at my lip before I realized what I was doing, and stopped.

"I don't think I was," I said. I felt my face get all hot. In guilt. But, Adam responded as if my red face was from

irritation.

"I'm not saying that you were," he said, calmly. "I'm just asking what you think."

"I might have been, I guess," I admitted.

"Well, even driving slow, they can come out of nowhere and jump in front of you," Adam said, sounding reassuring.

And kind. He sounded so kind right then that I felt a huge spasm of guilt.

For a moment, or more, there was silence between us. I was feeling really badly. Icky. And uncomfortable.

"I'm just glad you're alright," he said. "And that you didn't hit him. Or her."

I didn't say anything, I just looked at him.

"Well, I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes about it. And, also, to tell you that I'm proud of how you've been

helping out around here lately."

I stared at him. I mean, he'd caught me completely off-guard with a compliment.

"It's okay," I said.

"Hannah's told me about all the help you've been giving her, and I know she appreciates it. And, so do I. Things have

been pretty hectic around here lately."

"Yeah, it's been hectic," I agreed, still feeling as though he was going to say something more. Something angry.

"You've got a lot going on right now," he said. "So, that makes us appreciate your help even more." He smiled at me,

and patted my knee.

And then, he stood up. "I'll let you get to bed," he said. "Don't read too late."

"Okay."

He walked to the door, and opened it.

I don't know why, but I didn't just let him go. It felt as though I still wanted to talk to him. Don't ask me why. Temporary

insanity. I mean, I'd gotten away with my debacle about going into the ditch.

"I talked to Daniel," I said, and he turned back to look at me.

"Did you?"

"Yeah. I called him before I went to Ivy's today."

"He doing okay?"

"He seemed like he was." I didn't mention that the majority of Daniel and I's conversation had been about me, and my problems.

"He says he might be able to stay a week, when he comes for the wedding," I went on.

"It'll be darn good to see him," Adam said.

"Yeah." I hesitated. And then I burst out with, "Thank you for being so nice-about me going into the ditch like I did."

I couldn't believe I'd just said that! When in the h-e-double hockey sticks was I thinking?!

Later I would remember that Adam didn't show any signs of surprise, or of being puzzled, by my comment.

"No reason for me not to be-nice," he said, and I thought he accentuated the word 'nice' just a bit. "It was an accident, right?"

There was a loaded moment. And, then I nodded, briefly.

"Like I said, they come out of nowhere to jump in front of you," he said. "It wasn't anything that you did wrong."

And then, he said, "'Night, sugar."

"'Night," I said, feeling as though my throat was tightening.

It took me a long time to go to sleep after he'd gone, and I'd turned out the light. Conscience and guilt. They make

poor bedtime companions.

7


	30. Project Cabin Preparation

I felt tired and washed-out the next morning at breakfast. I must have looked not-so-great, either, because Hannah

said, "You don't look like you feel well," and eyed me in an appraising sort of way.

There was no point in denying it totally.

I didn't admit to feeling bad, though. I said, only, "I'm just tired."

"Oh," she said, and I could tell she had more to say.

But, she didn't say it. She only gave me another one of those direct looks, and then a half-smile.

I concentrated on eating my oatmeal, and then prepared to get my stuff gathered up for school, before going out to

do Guthrie's morning chores.

As I was shoving things into my backpack in the living room, Guthrie passed by, and said, "I'll do my chores. Don't

worry about it."

I turned to look at him. "I better do it," I said, though I was tempted to take him up on the offer.

"Naw. It's okay."

"What about Adam?" I asked.

"What about Adam?" came a voice behind me, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. There he was.

Guthrie and I exchanged a quick glance, and then Guthrie said, "I was telling Har that I'd do my own chores."

"Mmm," Adam said. Which didn't really mean anything.

I was still feeling hyper-sensitive to Adam, after he'd come up to my room the way he had the night before. I'd felt then,

and still did feel, that he was testing me or something. It was like he knew I was lying. I told myself over and over that there was

no way that that could be true. But-

I said quickly, "I just meant that you wouldn't like it-if I didn't do them, I mean."

Adam looked at me, straight-on, and I felt my face get all hot. What in heck was wrong with me?!

"It's Friday, anyway," Guthrie spoke up. "It's the last day of her doin' them. It's no big deal."

"If you want to help your sister do the chores, then that's up to you," he told Guthrie.

"Okay," Guthrie said. "Come on, Har."

I said okay, and slung my backpack over my shoulder, prepared to follow Guthrie out the front door.

"Bye," I said, looking at Adam, but yet avoiding his eye at the same time.

"Have a good day, both of you," Adam said.

"See ya later," Guthrie said, and we went outside together. I put my backpack in my truck, and went to help Guthrie with

the chores. It took hardly any time at all, with both of us at it. To be truthful, Guthrie did the majority. We were done and walking

towards our respective trucks, to prepare to leave. As I got into my truck, about to shut the door, something flashed in the corner of my eye. I

looked, and Adam was standing there, near the barn door, pulling on his leather gloves, and watching me.

"Drive safe," he told me.

"Yes. I will," I said, and felt my face get all hot again.

7

I practically crept along as I drove. Guthrie was behind me, and he pulled around to drive beside me down the road, making motioning

signs thru his open window at me to drive faster.

I shook my head in refusal, and he shook his head at what he considered my craziness, and drove on, waving at me in his

rearview mirror.

Another pop quiz in Anatomy that morning. Good grief. Mr. Fornelli must spend every waking hour plotting the misery of his

students. But, thanks to Crane's suggestion that I read ahead, I thought I might have done well. Still, my confidence had

taken a beating of late, so I wasn't totally sure. Again, Mr. Fornelli graded quickly, and handed them out as we left the classroom.

A B-plus. Well, that was a lot better.

When I got to the vet office, I found the door locked, and a folded note with my name on the outside taped on the door.

I unfolded it, and read:

'Harlie,

I will be out of town for the weekend. Sorry for the short notice. Have a free afternoon on me.

Ivy'

I got back into my truck, and began my drive home, thinking. I still drove really slowly. I was scared, plain and simple.

Nervous, about-well, wouldn't it be ironic, or perhaps justice, if a deer really did run in front of me? And I hit it, or

had to swerve and go into the ditch to avoid it?

I made it home, though, without mishap. But my shoulder muscles were sore, from driving all hunched forward, and

tense.

I went into the house, and found Clare and Hannah dusting the living room. Probably, I thought, in preparation for

the bridal shower on Sunday.

Hannah's first reaction at seeing me walk in, three hours earlier than usual, was to pause in her dusting, and

say, "Harlie? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Ivy had to go out of town for something, so-no work."

"Oh," she said, visibly relaxing. "Well, good."

I set my backpack on the end of one of the couches, and headed upstairs to change to old clothes.

When I came back down, I'd been thinking. When I asked Hannah if she had anything in particular that she wanted

my help with, she said, "There's a million things, but it sounds as though you have something else you want to do, right?"

"I sort of thought I'd go up to the line cabin-see if I can help Evan," I said, hoping that she wouldn't protest. "I haven't been

up there since he started fixing it up, and I'd like to see what he's done."

"Alright," Hannah said.

As I was making a fast exit, she called after me, "Take something to snack on with you!"

I stopped in the kitchen long enough to stuff some granola bars into a sack, and went out, whistling to old Charlie to come.

Once I had him saddled, we were on our way. I let him have his head and again marveled at how he could run for such an old fellow.

When I got to the line cabin, one of our old ATVs was parked, and there were sacks hanging all over it. I peeked thru one as I passed by,

and saw a loaf of bread, and a jar of peanut butter, and various different sizes of screwdrivers.

I tied old Charley, though I knew it probably wasn't necessary. He would stay where I was.

The door to the cabin was open, and I could hear the sound of pounding from inside.

I went to the open door, and stood a minute, shocked. It looked like a totally different place already. The floor had been repaired, and there

was new insulation on the walls. An obviously new sink sat on the old table. Evan was on his hands and knees, in a corner, hammering away.

I stepped inside, and said, "Hey, Ev."

Evan, startled, sat back on his heels and stared at me.

"Harlie, damn, you scared me."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"It's alright. I guess I was just concentrating," he told me.

I went on further into the room, looking at what he'd done. A new window had replaced the old broken one, the sticker still on it.

"This is amazing," I said, in awe.

"Yeah?" he asked, looking at me, and sounding pleased. "You think?"

"Definitely. I can't believe you've gotten all this done."

"It's comin' along alright, I guess."

"Well, I'm here to help. What do you want me to do?" I asked him.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work at Ivy's?"

"She didn't need me today. She had to go somewhere."

"Oh." He looked as though he was thinking. "Well, I don't know. Just jump in wherever you want."

And so, with that, I did. Jump in, I mean. I swept up the sawdust, picked up broken shards of glass, took out discarded

insulation pieces to a pile, and then I began to go thru cabinets.

I was standing on an old wooden chair, taking things out of the cabinets. Old bottled and canned food, magazines, rags,

all kinds of junk.

"Where do I put all the trash?" I asked Evan, from where I stood on my chair.

"Just stack it all in the corner, and I'll take it next time."

After we'd worked for over an hour or more, I went to get my granola bars and bring them in.

I cleared off a spot on the old table, and said, "Want to take a break? I brought granola bars."

"I'll take one, but I don't have time for a break," he told me.

I handed him a granola bar, and bit into one of my own.

"Did you even eat lunch?" I asked him, noticing the way he devoured the granola bar in nothing flat.

"No time," he said.

"Oh, good grief," I said, and went out to get the bread and peanut butter. I make him a couple of sandwiches, and poked him

on the shoulder.

"Here," I said.

"Thanks," he said, and took one.

"They're both for you, silly," I said, and he took the other one as well.

"It's not good for you to not eat," I told him.

"Says the chick who does it on a regular basis," he taunted.

"I do not. At least I try not to," I defended myself.

I sat down on a chair close to where he was working, and ate another granola bar while he ate the sandwiches.

I looked around, and said, "Nancy is going to love it."

"I hope so."

I studied him.

"Are you nervous?" I asked him. "About getting married?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little?"

"No. I guess if I wasn't sure about things, about Nancy, or if I wasn't sure that she was ready, then I might be nervous, or worried."

"That's nice," I said. "That you're so sure about things." I hesitated. "It will be weird, not having you in the house all the time."

"It's not like I'll be far away."

"No."

We were both quiet for a few moments, and then we got back to work. I even scraped off the sticker on the new window.

"You don't need to do that," Evan told me.

"Sure, I do," I insisted. "Nancy's not gonna want to have that sticker messing up her view of the trees."

"You're crazy," Evan accused, but he grinned at me.

"Only because I've been around you so long," I told him, tartly.

7


	31. Conversations x two

Evan and I were still working away, when Guthrie showed up, also on horseback. He came in, and went right to work,

helping Evan guide wood thru the saw.

It was a surprise, when we heard ATV sounds, and the grinding of the Jeep's gears coming. Hannah had brought

food, to have a picnic supper, and everybody came to help, except Clare, who stayed with Isaac at the house.

We took a break long enough to eat the chicken and potato salad, and then Hannah went about, gathering up the

paper plates and shoving them into a giant trash bag.

"There's cookies in there, too," she said, in a general way, and Guthrie dived into the food chest.

"Here, now," Brian told him. "Leave some for the rest of us."

I'd eaten a helping of potato salad, and was still nibbling on a chicken leg, when I sensed, rather than knew, that Adam was

watching me. I flicked my glance his way, and sure enough, he was. He looked serious, but nothing else that I could really

put my finger on. He didn't look away, either. He just kept looking at me. As if he was studying me.

I looked away, again. I felt a shiver go up my back, sort of.

I added my chicken leg bone to the pile that had accumulated from everybody's, and wiped my hands on my jeans.

"Hannah says you didn't have to work today," Adam said to me, in conversation, as everybody started getting up to get back

to work.

"No. Ivy left a note on the door," I said.

"Mmm," he said.

I felt so awkward. Weird. In the smallness of the cabin, with all of us there, it seemed as though Adam was larger-than-life. Taking

up more than his share of the room.

Hannah was saying that she needed to get back to the house, in case Clare was feeling queasy again.

"Are you coming back with me?" Hannah asked me.

I saw that Adam was preparing to drive Hannah back in the Jeep, and I really didn't want to be in close confines with him

at that time, so I shook my head.

"I'll stay and help some more," I said.

"There'll be more for you to do later," Evan told me. "For right now, it's mostly heavy stuff that's too much for you. You can

go on back to the house."

I began to protest, but before I could make a real case, Brian spoke up.

"I'm gonna head back in a half-hour or so. I'll ride with her."

And, so that was that. I stayed, and did odd things for the next forty-five minutes or so, while Brian helped measure, and

cut, and hammer some more.

When Brian said, "Gather up your stuff, peach, and we'll head back," I prepared to go.

Although, I didn't really have anything to take back, since Evan and I had finished off the granola bars already.

When Brian and I prepared to go, he swung himself up on Charlie first, and then shifted to the back of the saddle, so I

could manage to mount to the front. I flicked the reins and began Charlie on his return to the ranch.

It was nearly dusk by now. Still enough light to see by, but not bright. We could hear the night-calls of animals

as we rode.

I was quiet as we rode. I felt uncomfortable being around Brian, too. I hated feeling that way. But, just the thought of

him knowing that I'd lied-well, I don't know which was worse to consider. Him or Adam.

I'm not sure how long we'd been riding. Maybe just a few minutes. And, I hadn't said a word. Neither had he, though.

When he did speak, I wished that he hadn't.

"What's on your mind, peach?" he asked, his voice rumbly and close to my ear.

I felt panicked. Why was he asking me that?

"Not anything, really," I said.

"That's not true," he said, and I bit at my lip.

He didn't say it in an argumentative way. Just more straight-out. Fact-stating.

I clenched the reins in my palm, trying to think.

"Is it?" he asked, quietly.

I sighed. Brian is a human lie-detector.

"No," I admitted.

"So, what is it?" he asked.

"School," I said. "And-my diabetes. Just-everything."

"Uh huh."

"It's fine," I said, hoping he would drop it.

"I don't think it's fine, and neither do you," he said, in a definite way.

"Well, no, but I'm dealing with it."

"Dealin' with all of it?" he asked, and stressed the word 'all'. "In the right way?"

I wished I was anywhere but where I was right then. He was relentless. Why couldn't we just ride in quiet? And, just like with

Adam, it seemed as though Brian was getting at something. Something more than what he was asking.

"I don't know," I said, feeling frustrated, and nervous.

There was silence for a few minutes then, and I hoped that he was going to let it be.

"You know how you and Guthrie used to stand up dominoes all across the living room?" he asked. "Right next to each other, in a long row?"

I blinked at his change of subject.

"Yeah. I remember."

"And, then, when you pushed one, the whole line would fall, one right after the other," he added.

Just as I relaxed a second, thinking he was talking about childhood memories or something, he said,

"It seems like that's the way it can be sometimes, with situations or things in your life. You fail to take care of

one thing in the right way, then the first domino goes. If you don't stop it quick, and take care of things, then the next one

goes. After that, they all start fallin', and it just gets harder to reset."

In the dusk, I felt my face get warm. Nerves.

"You understand where I'm goin' with this, peach?" he asked me. Not unkindly.

"I think so," I managed.

The lights of the house were in sight by now.

At the barn, we dismounted, and Brian said, "I'll take care of the tack and turn Charlie out. You better get in and

get that insulation washed off."

I said okay, and hustled off, anxious to not only wash off my skin, itchy from the insulation, but also to get away from

his probing questions.

7

I took a shower, gave myself my shot, and went to bed, all with avoiding everybody in the house. I was tired. Worn out.

I closed my door, turned off the lamp, and crawled under my quilt. I was drifting into sleep, and I could hear voices. And the

phone ringing. And I thought I heard my door open, and then close again. But, I wasn't sure.

7

I was up early the next morning, and, though I would have preferred to eat cold, sugary cereal like Guthrie was, I ate oatmeal.

I cut up strawberries and mixed in it, and then sat down to eat, and drink coffee.

The breakfast conversation consisted of work at the line cabin, regular ranch chores that needed doing, and then all

the inside stuff to finish up before the bridal shower the next day.

"What about Kristin?" Hannah asked, looking at Guthrie and I both. "Would she like to come over, so she can be here for the shower

tomorrow?"

"I know she would," I said.

"I'll call her right after breakfast," Guthrie said.

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?" Hannah was asking me.

"I guess it depends on what everybody needs help with," I said.

"Harlie can stay around here today, and help with what you need," Adam said, speaking to Hannah from his end of the table.

And so, it was decided. And, I stayed busy. I dusted the high shelves in the living room, and then vacuumed, even using the vacuum hose

to clean under the couch cushions.

Clare had had another rough start to her morning. She'd spent the morning alternately throwing up, and mopping her face.

I just felt so sorry for her. Finally, she gave up trying to help, and just sat on the corner of one of the couches, her legs curled up

underneath her.

Mid-morning, Hannah and I sat down, too, to take a well-deserved break. I had a glass of lemonade, and we watched

as Isaac scooted around the room.

It was while we were sitting there, that Adam came in the front door, letting the screen door slam behind him.

Immediately, Isaac began to garble at Adam in baby talk, and Adam reached down to pick him up.

"How's it going in here?" he asked.

"We're having a little break," Hannah told him.

"That's good," Adam said.

"How about you?" Hannah asked him.

"Doin' alright. I need to head up to check on the herd. I need to do a head count."

"Will you be back for lunch?" Hannah asked.

"No way by noon."

"Do you want me to pack you up a couple of sandwiches?" she asked.

"If you want to, that would be great."

"I suppose I could," Hannah said, standing up. She reached up and gave Adam a quick kiss, and added teasingly, "Only because

I love you, of course."

Adam half-smiled at her.

As Hannah went off to the kitchen, Adam turned his gaze to Clare, huddled there on the couch under the blue afghan.

"Rough day, huh?" he asked her, sounding sympathetic.

"Not so good," Clare said, with a wan smile.

And then, he turned to me. "You finished helping in here?"

I'd been staying quiet, hoping not to have his attention fall to me.

"I don't know what else Hannah has for me to do," I said.

"Well, go have her make a sandwich for you, too, and grab the record book. You can ride along with me."

"Ok," I said, hoping I didn't sound as reluctant as I felt inside.

The sandwiches, along with some fruit, and cookies, were in the knapsack Adam hooked over his saddle horn.

Hannah had walked out, as we were both finishing saddling up.

"You'll be back mid-afternoon, you think?" she asked Adam.

"Hopefully before that," he said.

"Alright," Hannah said, and they gave each other a brief kiss.

Adam looked towards me and asked, "You have the notebook?"

I tapped the pocket of my shirt, where the small yellow notebook fit just perfectly. "Uh huh."

He mounted up, and said, "See you later," to Hannah, heading towards where the cattle were grazing.

I mounted, too, and when Hannah said, "Bye," to me, and I looked at her, it seemed as though the expression on her

face was saying something more than just 'see you later'. I felt my nerves and worry push to the front again. Did Hannah

know something, about Adam planning to jerk the truth out of me?

I was subdued. Quiet. And, since Adam made no attempt at conversation, there was silence for the most part, as we rode.

I don't think I'd been this utterly uncomfortable in a very long time. Miserable.

When we began seeing the cattle, first just here and there, and then more of them, in a larger group, Adam rode to the

outer edge, and stopped. He sent me to the other side, and told me to count, and to write down ear tag numbers of anything

I noticed. Recent calves, those that looked ready to calve, any apparent health things, all of that.

I took out the little notebook, riding in amongst the cattle, and scratching down notes. Since I was doing it quick, I thought I'd

have to rewrite them so that Adam, or Crane or whoever, would be able to read them, as well. Adam was working his way around

the other side, and when I came thru the herd, he rode up beside me.

"Anything major?" he asked me.

I flipped the notebook to the first page of my notes, and read off what I'd observed. I told him about the two or three that

I thought were soon to deliver, and about #47, who appeared to be limping.

When I told him that, he rode to the edge of the other side, looking for that particular cow.

I rode after him, and when he leaned forward in the saddle, his eyes searching over the many big-eyed, tail-swishing cattle,

I was looking, too.

"She was near the edge," I said. "Like she didn't want to be in the thick of the herd, in case they made her fall or something."

"Could be," he said, still looking.

"There," I said, pointing, as I spotted #47.

Adam got down and walked over to the cow. Our cattle are all, for the most part, very docile and tame. They're used to us

being among them, and mostly associate people with feed or range cubes.

Adam was able to put his hand on the cow's neck, and crouch down to look at the leg. The cow wouldn't agree to having him actually

lift it or anything, but I saw him run his hand down over it, before he stood up.

As he made his way back to where I was, he took up his reins again, and remounted.

"Is it bad?" I asked him.

"I don't know if it's a tear or what," he said. "She's one of the older ones, so it's likely to take longer for her to heal if it is."

"Oh."

"Not too much swelling," he said, still looking out at the cow, as if he were thinking.

He began to unroll his rope, coiled up and hung over the saddle horn on his saddle.

"I'm gonna have you move the herd away from her," he told me.

"Okay," I said.

"Not too fast," he cautioned. "Nothing fancy. Just slow and easy, alright?"

"Okay," I said again, and waited for him to get his rope ready, and for him to nod his head at me to begin.

I put Charlie into motion and waved my left arm, my hat in my hand, with a couple of "Yaw!"

I moved a few of the cattle forward, and the rest mostly followed.

"Ease up!" Adam hollered to me, and I pulled Charlie to a near-halt, and stopped waving my hat.

"Just sit tight," he called to me, and I watched as he cast his rope, managing on the first toss to rope #47.

He didn't start pulling her right off. Instead, he sat still, only lightly letting her feel the tug of the rope, and then he

backed his horse up, to begin her walking.

I rode back over near to him, and watched, and listened, as he talked in a quiet tone to the cow.

"Are you taking her home?" I asked, assuming that was what he was doing.

"Yeah. We'll keep her in, so she doesn't have to walk, and see if we can get her leg healed up."

He began to move forward, the cow moving slowly behind him.

"It's gonna take a while to get her there," Adam said. "She's not gonna move very fast."

"Grab the grub bag," he told me, and I reached over to take it off his saddle horn, since his hands were full, with pulling the cow.

"Might as well break out Hannah's sandwiches," he said.

I handed him one of the sandwiches, and he undid the foil, biting into it.

"You need to eat yours, too," he told me, when I made no move to take out another one.

"I'm not very hungry," I said. "I did eat a lot of oatmeal at breakfast."

"Go on and eat a sandwich," he said. "You need to eat. Not to mention the fact that if you don't, Hannah will have

my head on a silver platter."

I flicked a glance at him. The light-hearted joking of that comment had caught me off-guard. He didn't seem to be

paying attention, though. He was looking back at the cow.

I took out a sandwich, and then another, laying the second one on his leg.

"Thanks," he said.

I unwrapped the foil, and bit into the roast beef sandwich. Typically, it's one of my favorites. Today, it didn't taste

right, though.

"How's your Anatomy class going?" he asked me.

Crane must have told him I was struggling.

"Better. I hope. I got a B on a quiz yesterday."

"Good."

Once, we'd begun talking, just regular, it made me want to continue.

"Sometimes, I worry," I told him. "About when I start college. About how I'll be able to keep up, and all that."

He looked at me for a long moment, but was quiet.

"I worry about it a lot," I added.

"It's gonna take everything you have to give, when the time comes," he said. "Preparing for it, that's now. Every struggle you

go thru with your classes at school, that you overcome, that helps prepare you for when things get tougher."

I nodded. "What do you think Dad would have thought? About me going to veterinary school?" I really wanted to know what Adam

thought that our father would have said.

"He'd have popped the buttons off his shirt," Adam said. "He'd have been proud."

I got a warm feeling inside when he said that. If only he'd stopped there, I could have kept that warm feeling.

7


	32. The destruction

Like I said, I was feeling good about what Adam had said. That our father would have been proud of my goal. My ambition.

"I'm glad," I said. "That you think he would be proud."

"There's other things he would have been proud of, too," Adam went on. "The same things I'm proud of you for. He would have

wanted you to work hard, give your best to whatever you're doing. And, he would want you to be responsible. Worthy of the trust

that other people put in you."

Just like that, I was done. Now, instead of a warm, cozy feeling, I was back to feeling low. Sneaky. Guilty. Worried.

I turned my face a little, so that Adam wouldn't be able to see my expression as easily. And I was quiet.

All the way home, I was quiet. Adam said no more, either. Only this.

"You okay?" he asked, just after he'd made the trust comment, and I'd gone silent.

"Yeah," I said, and looked to the right, willing myself not to show a reaction. To act as if everything was fine.

7

When we got back to the house, it was nearly three o'clock. It had taken awhile, what with having to walk so slow with the

cow. I unsaddled both horses, and put the tack away, while Adam got the cow into a stall in the barn, with fresh hay. After that I went

inside the house, and upstairs, where I took a shower, and went to my bedroom. I closed the door and laid down, drifting off

to sleep. At least for a few minutes.

I was awakened by bouncing on the end of my bed, and opened my eyes to see Ford standing there, pushing up and down on the

mattress. Hard enough to make it feel like a boat.

"What're are you doing?" I asked him with a groan.

"Wakin' your butt up. Come on."

"Okay. Stop rocking the bed. Please."

He stopped, standing up straight, and I looked up from him. "I didn't know you were coming home this weekend," I told him.

"Yeah. I just decided at the last minute. I only have one class Monday morning, so...I decided to head home," he said.

"Oh."

He frowned at me. "What's goin' on?"

"Nothing's going on. What are you talking about?" I asked him, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed.

"Well, how come you're takin' a nap?" he demanded.

"Um-because I was tired?" I suggested, in a more than slightly sarcastic tone. Snotty.

"O-kaaay," he said, drawing out the word.

He sat down on the bed beside me. "How come you're pissed at me?" he asked then.

"I'm not," I said, getting up and going to my dresser to pull out a pair of jeans.

"Sure as heck seems like you are."

I whirled around to look at Ford. "Oh, yeah? So you think I'm a liar, too, right?" and raised my voice.

"What do you mean? Too?" he asked, looking confused, with his forehead all wrinkled.

"Never mind," I said, and turned back to my dresser, sorting thru, looking for a t-shirt.

When I'd found a t-shirt, and added it to the jeans and socks I was holding, and turned around, Ford was still sitting

there, studying me with a puzzled expression.

"What?" I demanded, not very nicely.

Ford shook his head, and stood up. "Nothin'," he said, and headed towards the door.

And, then, like a little kid who's been hateful, and then is sorry, I said, "Ford."

He turned at the door, and looked at me, waiting.

I tossed my armful of clothes onto my bed, and was across the room in nothing flat, wrapping my arms around his

neck. "Sorry for being a bitch to you."

"You're not a bitch, Har," he said. He pulled back a little, so he could look down at me.

"You okay?" he asked then.

I shrugged, and then sighed. "You know. Teenage girls and hormones."

Ford was still wrinkling up his forehead, as if trying to figure me out.

"I'm glad you came home," I said, squeezing him again. "I'll make you some lemon bars. How does that sound?"

"It sounds good."

"Let me change, and I'll be down," I told him.

7

I hustled downstairs, and went to the kitchen, which was filling up with McFaddens. Sandwiches were the idea for

supper, since Hannah wanted to go ahead and set up tables for the next day's bridal shower for Nancy.

Evan was, as usual, absent from the table, and still working up at the cabin. Crane wasn't eating, either. He came

into the kitchen, saying that he was going out to dinner with Cindy. He reminded Hannah that Cindy planned to come to

the shower the next afternoon.

"That's great," Hannah said, looking glad.

Crane said his goodbyes, and Hannah began hurrying everybody else thru their supper, saying she needed help to

get the tables and chairs set up in the living room.

Ford finished his sandwich and took his plate to the sink, announcing that he was going out, as well.

Surprise faced him from those of us remaining at the table.

"Really?" Hannah asked. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Shootin' some pool?" Brian asked him.

"No. I've got a sort-of-a date," Ford said.

"Oh," Hannah said.

"Yeah," Ford said, leaning his hands on the back of his chair, and looking around the room at everybody. He looked a little

embarrassed.

"What in hell is a sort-of-a date?" Brian demanded, with a laugh, as he began running hot water in the sink.

"Yeah, Ford," Adam said, joining in, and looking at Ford with a smile at the corner of his mouth. "What is that, exactly?"

"Felicity and I are goin' to a movie," Ford said.

I stopped what I was doing, which was gathering ingredients to make the lemon bars. I turned to survey Ford, surprised.

"You're going out with Felicity again?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," Ford said, looking uncomfortable.

I was still surprised, so I didn't answer immediately.

"Well, that's good," Hannah said, and patted Ford's arm as she passed by him.

"Yeah," Ford said again.

When Ford headed towards the living room, I trailed after him, still carrying two eggs, one in each hand.

"I thought we were gonna hang out, or something," I said, and Ford paused, pulling his ball cap on.

"We will," he said.

I was still looking at him, and he said, "We will," again. More forcefully.

I turned around and started back towards the kitchen. "Have fun tonight."

"Har- Ford said.

"See you later," I said, over my shoulder, and kept walking.

"What is your darn problem?" Ford demanded.

I stopped, and whirled around to look at him. "Nothing," I insisted.

"You're up, you're down, you're up, and then you're down, again," Ford said, looking perplexed. "Keepin' track of your

mood is like tryin' to gentle a rogue horse."

"So, now I'm a horse," I stated flatly.

"Good grief, I thought you'd be happy about me takin' Felicity out again," he said. "I mean, you're the one

who fixed it up in the first place-"

"I am glad about it," I said. I sighed. "I hope you have fun. What movie are you going to see?"

Ford looked even more confused by my sudden catapult.

"I don't know yet," he said.

"Well, I'll make your lemon bars," I told him. "If it's not real late when you get home, come tell me about how it went. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay." His gaze flickered over my head, and past me. "'Night, Adam."

"'Night, Ford," I heard Adam say.

I squeezed my eyes shut. How long had he been standing there, behind me?

I turned around, feeling awkward, as Adam gave me as puzzled of a glance as Ford had.

He was just sort of leaning there, in the doorway that leads from the living room to the kitchen.

I waited for him to say something. Maybe about how he knew I was a big phony. Or maybe just about my interaction

with Ford just then.

But, he didn't. Hannah came in, and started talking to him, and to Guthrie, who had followed her, about

setting up two tables, and where they should be at.

7

I mixed up the lemon bars for Ford, and then washed up the bowls and stuff that I'd used for mixing. Brian had already finished

the dishes, and informed me to clean up my own mess, that he wasn't going to do any more dishes that night.

It was while I was putting the lemon bars into the oven, that I heard the sound of something banging, or falling, in the basement.

I went to the door to the basement, opening it and listening. Now, I heard sort of scratching. Uh oh. I hadn't checked on Pepe

since that morning. I'd been so busy all day, and then I'd taken that nap.

I closed the door behind me, and went down to the basement.

I was greeted with an area of mass destruction. There was cat food spilled out of the sack, where it had been tipped over. And a sack of

flour had been ripped, and was spilled on the floor, too. And the trash bags, tied up, and put just beside the stairs, had been torn open,

and trash was strewn everywhere. It was disgusting.

"Bat shit!" I swore, surveying the chaos.

Pepe, busy snacking on some of that spilled cat food, gave me only a fleeting glance. Unconcerned about me, or about the

mess he'd made.

"This is just great, Pepe," I told him. "Thanks a lot. You know you're going to get kicked out of here, right?"

He continued to crunch, unaware, or uncaring, of the situation he'd put himself and me in.

I swept up the cat food first, and then the flour. Sweeping up flour is not easy, let me tell you. The floor seemed to be white no matter

how much I swept. Finally, I thought, 'good enough', and began picking up the trash. That was so gross that I stopped, trying to find a pair of

gloves to put on. Thinking that Hannah might have rubber gloves on a shelf somewhere down here. When I couldn't find any, though, I

remembered seeing a pair of leather ones upstairs, on the back porch, where one of my brothers had taken theirs off. I slipped up the

stairs, and opened the door into the kitchen, peering around. There was no one in the kitchen at that moment. I could hear voices, though,

coming from the living room. Hannah probably had all hands available helping to set up for the bridal shower.

I grabbed the leather gloves and went back down, closing the door again.

I was on my hands and knees, still picking up nasty, disgusting trash, and re sacking it. Pepe had destroyed the trash bags, so

I'd gotten out new ones. He even wandered over to where I was at one point, sniffing at the trash.

"Don't even," I told him.

I heard the door above open, and I paused, still and quiet. Best if nobody knew I was down here, until I had it cleaned up.

I waited, but nobody headed down the stairs. Only a box came sailing down the stairs, where it had been tossed from the top.

Then the door was closed again.

I went back to picking up the trash, muttering to myself. I heard my name being hollered. And then, I heard the door open again.

"Harlie! You down there?" It was Brian, by the sounds of it.

There was no point to pretense.

"Yeah!" I called back.

"Your cake's burnin'!" he hollered.

I didn't bother to correct his assumption about it being a cake.

"Can you take it out?" I called. "Please?"

"Yeah, okay," I heard him say, and the door closed.

I kept on with the trash scooping. I was thinking that it was truly amazing, and disgusting, how spilled, wet, coffee grounds could

make such a huge mess.

The door opened again, and footsteps began down the stairs. They were light, and I knew it wasn't a brother.

"Hey," Clare said, standing on the bottom stair, and surveying the mess that remained. "Good grief," she said.

"Yeah. Isn't it beautiful?"

"What happened?"

I nodded toward Pepe. "I guess he got bored," I said, lightly.

"Well, here, I'll help you," she said, and promptly got down on her knees and began picking up cans, and newspapers, and

putting them into a trash bag.

"Don't do that," I told her. "You haven't been feeling good-"

"It's fine," she said, and then, just a minute or so into it, she paused, looking at me.

"Uh," she said, with a groan.

"Oh, gosh, Clare," I said, feeling so bad.

Clare stood up, looking as though she was going to puke. Any minute. Right there.

"Want me to get something?" I asked, looking up at her. "Some water, or I can get Brian-"

"No, don't do that," she said swiftly. "He's already acting like a mother duck."

She took a deep breath. "I'll be fine," she said, and I wondered whether she was trying to convince me, or herself.

There were more footsteps coming down the stairs, and there was Adam. He took in the mess in a single glance, and then

came on to the bottom of the stairs.

"You alright?" he asked Clare, touching her elbow.

"Yeah. Just a little rocky," Clare said.

"Go on back upstairs," he told her. "Brian was getting you some ginger ale, I think."

"He's sweet," Clare said, faintly, looking as though she might topple over.

"Go on," Adam said, again. There was a firmness to his tone, and Clare smiled a little. A wan smile.

"Okay," she said, and began up the stairs. "Sorry I couldn't help, toots," she said to me.

"It's okay."

She was gone then, and Adam stood there, his hands on his hips. I looked at him, from where I was, on my knees.

"This isn't going to work," he said.

I didn't argue that. What was there to say? Of course we couldn't have Pepe destroying the basement like this. At least Adam

wasn't yelling. Like, as in, 'Harlie, what the hell!' or 'Get him out of here now!'

"I know," I said, glumly, and went back to scooping up coffee grounds into the dust pan.

He took a step or two closer. "Are those my gloves?" he asked.

7


	33. Pay the Piper

I looked up to meet his eyes. I was cursed.

"I couldn't find any rubber gloves-" I began to make an excuse. And then I sighed, sort of sitting back on my heels. "If they're the ones

that were on the back porch, then yeah, they're yours. Sorry."

He sighed, and as I began to pull them off then, he waved a hand at me. "Just leave 'em on."

And then, to my somewhat surprise, he got another trash bag, and crouched down, beginning to pick up trash.

I watched him for a couple of seconds like that, still sitting on my heels.

"If he's gonna stay in here until that hutch is fixed, then he has to be in a cage, or somethin'," Adam said, as he plucked

thru the trash.

I thought for a moment. "What about one of the stalls, in the barn? If he was in one of them, and the door was closed, would that

be alright?"

I went on before he could really answer. "I mean, I could put some things in there for him to play with, and it's not like it's cold

yet at night." I looked at him hopefully.

"Yeah. Alright," he said.

"Thanks," I said, sort of meekly.

For the next little while, we both just scooped, and picked up, in silence, until finally there wasn't any more trash strewn across the floor.

Adam went to grab the broom, and began sweeping up the tiny pieces.

"I'll do that," I said. I didn't want him to get any more aggravated about Pepe than he already was.

"I've got it," he told me. "I think Hannah was wanting your help, deciding some stuff upstairs."

"Oh. Okay," I said. I stood up, and pulled off his chore gloves. "Want me to put these back?" I asked him.

"Yeah."

"Thank you for helping me," I said, feeling a little awkward.

"It's alright. Take a couple of these bags upstairs when you go. Tell Guthrie to come down and grab the rest to take out to

the dumpster."

"Okay," I said, picking up two bags.

I headed towards the stairs, going up several, and then pausing to look back over at him. He had his back to me, and was

sweeping.

I bit at my lip a little. Adam was sort of an enigma to me. Well, sometimes. I mean, you could always count on him, so in that

way, he was steady, and dependable. You knew he was never going to just leave you in the lurch on something. But, in other ways,

I couldn't figure him out. Like helping me to clean up the mess that Pepe had made. Or how he understood when sometimes I just

needed to get off by myself on horseback. Or, how he'd been steadily working at me the last few days, as if he knew something, but

yet wasn't going to say just what it was.

Sometimes, he would get angry about something, and I would totally understand why. Other times, he wouldn't get so mad

about something else, when I'd thought that he would.

He finished sweeping, swept it into the dust pan, and dumped it into the trash can beside the dryer. When he turned to set the broom

back in its place, he saw me, still standing there.

"Trash too heavy?" he asked me.

"No. I was just thinking about something," I said slowly.

"What's that?" he asked, coming over to stand beside the stairs.

I found swallowing suddenly a bit painful. Why, oh why, hadn't I told Adam the truth about what had happened when I'd put my

truck into the ditch?

"Harlie?" he said, questioningly, and I realized that I'd sort of drifted off into my own thoughts. My own self-accusing thoughts.

"I need to talk to you-" I said, haltingly.

"Okay."

There were loud noises coming from up above us, and then I heard Nancy's voice, calling down the stairs to me.

"Hey, wild child, we need your help up here!" She sounded happy. Giddy, nearly. And then I heard her laughing, and

Evan's voice, mixing with hers.

And then, Guthrie's laughter, too.

"It's busy around here," I said, and then met Adam's eyes.

"It is," he agreed, quietly.

I met his eyes. "There wasn't a deer," I said, softly. "The day I went into the ditch. There wasn't one."

"I'm listening," he said, and I felt as though his eyes were going right thru me.

I licked my lips, gathering courage.

"One of the pages of my Anatomy quiz came loose, and it blew onto the floorboard. I was leaning over to pick it up."

"It came loose," he said, sort of slowly.

I nodded.

"While you were reading it?" he asked.

"Yeah," I admitted, after I'd hesitated, just a slight moment. I knew he already knew, anyway.

"Why did you lie?" Adam asked then. His voice was calm enough, but I heard a hardness beneath.

"I didn't want you to get mad-" I said.

Instead of answering, Adam just looked at me. Steady on. Not wavering. Waiting.

"I need to be able to drive-to Ivy's, and to school. I didn't want you to tell me I couldn't drive," I said, giving him the

admission he was waiting for.

Still he said nothing immediately. It felt to me as though his eyes were searing me. I rambled on, feeling

as if I had to fill the silence.

"And Brian would have said I was being stupid, and-" I hesitated. "All of that."

"So you chose to lie," he said, and it wasn't a question.

I heaved a huge sigh. I'd thought I'd feel somewhat better after unburdening myself to Adam. But, I didn't. I still felt

weighed down inside. And very, very nervous.

"I feel bad for lying to you," I told him. "It's been bothering me for days."

Instead of addressing that, me pouring out my guilty feelings to him, he said, instead,

"This summer we had a conversation, you and I. Remember?"

Of course I remembered. That conversation was the reason I was standing here, confessing to him right now.

I nodded, though, not saying all of that.

"Our agreement was that you would come to me, that I wouldn't hear from other people what you'd done, and that you

wouldn't lie to me. You'd be straight with me. The chips would fall, but we would have honesty between us. Right?" he said.

I met his eyes again, trying to think of what to say.

I took too long to reply, because he said, curtly, "Harlie. Is that right?"

"Yes."

"I thought that talk we had that night meant something," Adam said, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

"It did! That's why I'm telling you now, tonight! About what really happened! Because-because of that talk!" I told him.

"You're telling me now," he said. "But, the way that it should have gone-the way that would have adhered to our

agreement-would have been for you to tell me straight out, the truth, the day it happened."

I sighed. "Yes."

There was more banging at the top of the stairs, and the noise of the family.

"Plus, you've had several opportunities the last few days to come clean," he said. "Haven't you?"

"Yeah," I admitted. I knew that he and Brian had known all along there hadn't been a deer. That I was lying.

"You've put in hard work around here, with everybody," Adam went on. "Since you took off to Daniel's. I'd hate

to think that all of that work, rebuilding, was back to square one again."

I couldn't bear that! I couldn't! "I don't want that!" I burst out.

"HARLIE!" came a call from the top of the stairs again. Nancy. "Come up here and try your dress on!"

"Go on up, and do what you need to," Adam said. "We'll finish this when the house settles down tonight."

Finish it? Just those two words made a shiver go up my back.

"Should I put my keys on your dresser?" I asked. I just wanted this over and done. If he was going to ground me from driving,

then I wished he would just say so.

"We'll talk about that when we finish," he said.

Again, I felt a shiver. A foreboding.

"Don't forget to take the skunk out to the barn later," he said.

I nodded, and he turned, to grab two bags of the trash himself, and so I had to head up the stairs, since he was

behind me.

7

To say that my mood was subdued the rest of the evening would be an understatement. I tried to join in with the shower

preparations. Mostly it was setting up tables and chairs, since some of the decorations were meant to be a surprise for Nancy, so

those would be done in the early morning when she wasn't around. She made me try on my dress again, yanking and tugging, and then

proclaiming that it was perfect. No more alterations needed.

Ford came home while we were in the midst of the setting up, and he helped, too. Every so often, I would feel someone watching me,

and when I looked up, it would be Brian. I knew Adam had probably taken him aside at some point, and given him a heads up. Both on my

confession and on what he planned to do.

Evan made popcorn, and Brian made his hot chocolate. When he offered me a cup, I shook my head. My stomach was rebelling at that

point.

"No, thanks," I told him, avoiding his eyes.

Even Ford couldn't get a smile out of me. He was crunching his way thru the burnt lemon bars.

"Great," he proclaimed. "Delicious."

I knew very well that wasn't true. Even when he clowned around, and said, "They're just a bit crunchy," and made his

eyes go all wide, I didn't smile.

"Sorry," I said. "I got caught up with Pepe. I'll make you some more."

He ran his hand over my shoulder, looking concerned. "What is it, Har?" he asked, really quietly, so no one else could overhear.

I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. There was nothing that Ford could do, anyway.

Nancy eventually left, after eight sometime. I waited for Adam to call me to my room, or whatever, but he didn't right away.

Finally, I went up to my room, and got into my pajamas. Then, I thought I might as well take care of Pepe. I went downstairs

and collected him, and his bowls. I shoved my feet into my boots, without socks, and traipsed to the barn.

The cow that Adam and I had led in earlier was in her stall, so I picked two stalls down from her. I thought her hooves against

the stall might make Pepe nervous.

I fluffed up the hay, and got him his food and water, and an old tennis ball, and dog squeak toy. I was sitting on the stall floor

with Pepe, with the door shut, when I heard someone coming.

I knew it was Adam. And, it was. He came up and rested his arms along the top of the stall, looking down.

"Get him settled in?" he asked me.

"Yeah."

"Good." He was quiet a moment, and then said, "The one thing I want from you, and Guthrie, and any of you kids, really, is

to be straight with me. Honest."

Any other time, I might have found it amusing that he was calling Evan, and Daniel kids. Tonight, though, I didn't.

"Even as adults, like the boys are now, I want honesty from them, above everything else. Without honesty, well, there isn't

much," he said.

I looked up at him, and then down again, reaching out to run my finger over Pepe's back.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you, and to Brian," I said.

"I am, too," he said, sounding regretful. "You took a situation, and you made it-so much worse than it had to be. You do

something like what you did, make a mistake, even one that you know better than to do, the thing is-you could have said, 'Hey,

I did something not so smart,' and 'I made a poor choice'. Then we would have hashed it out, you would have gotten a lecture, and

likely had your keys taken for a week or so, and then we would have moved on."

I was still looking down, and he said, "Harlie. Look at me."

I looked up, and he prompted me, "Isn't that right? Is that would have likely happened?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

He sighed a little. "Stand up," he ordered.

I got to my feet, dusting off my pajamas. There was only the stall wall between us, so we were pretty much-bam-right together.

"I am going to take your keys," he said. "Until next Friday."

Before I could ask about work, going to Ivy's, he went on. "We'll figure something out about your work. Let me think about that some

more."

I was still going to get to go to the vet clinic every day, I could tell. He was going to arrange one of them to drive me, or whatever.

This wasn't so horrible. I'd come clean, and even if I couldn't drive until Friday, it was going to be bearable.

I felt so relieved, I almost smiled at him.

"Thanks, Adam," I said gratefully.

"You may not want to thank me, just yet," he said.

I eyed him, with fresh trepidation.

"The week without driving privileges, that's for being irresponsible, and not keeping your mind on your driving," he said.

"Driving is a privilege, not a right. Being distracted, or just darn foolish while you're behind a steering wheel isn't safe, or

responsible."

"Lying about it, about what really happened, that's a separate thing," he went on. "With a separate punishment."

I watched him, feeling as though we were in a slow-motion movie.

"For that," he said, "Because you lied to me, and to Brian, you're getting paddled."

I stared at him in horror. "Adam-" I began.

"The thing is, whatever I say, or do, tonight, you're likely to remember for a long while. I want you to remember that

no matter what it's about, I don't want you lying to us," he said.

"I'll remember-" I said.

Adam nodded, just a little. "I hope," he said. He sort of pushed off from the stall, and said, "Come out of there."

I couldn't move. It was like I was frozen or something. This could not be happening.

Adam walked just a bit, a few feet, and paused, looking back at me.

"Harlie," he said, almost kindly. "Come on, now."

It was almost as though he was encouraging me to drive up a hill in the Jeep, or toss a rope at a calf. Not to come to

him so I could get my backside reddened.

I lifted the latch on the stall door, and opened it, stepping out. And, then, I closed it. Slowly.

I walked over to him. "You don't have to, Adam," I pleaded.

"I think I need to," he corrected, stressing the word 'need'.

He reached out to take my arm in his hand. I reacted instinctively, and jerked back from him.

Instead of getting angry at that, he just stood there for a moment, looking at me with a sort of studying glance, as though

waiting out a skittish colt.

"That's not gonna help anything," he said.

And then, he reached for me, again, and pulled me over closer. He put his foot on the hay bale that was sitting there,

and then, with apparent ease, he hoisted me over the knee raised above the hay bale. I was basically dangling there, using his

lower leg to steady myself.

I was panicking now, but I couldn't flop around. Mostly because I felt as though I would fall forward if I did. And, also, he

had his left hand in the center of my back.

"What's this spanking for, Harlie?" he asked.

"Because I lied to you-" I said, and he shifted me again. I knew he was preparing to start in, and I tried to prepare myself.

But, preparing for such never really works.

He spanked me until I was inwardly cursing my thin pajama material. And then, after a bunch of wallops, he paused, and I

felt myself go limp over his knee. Thanking God that it was over.

But, he only shifted me again. And, said, "Is this getting thru to you?"

"Yes!" I said, clutching at his leg again.

"Alright. I'm gonna finish up now."

Finish up?! I'd thought he was done!

"I'm gonna give you two swats with a paddle to finish up," he said.

What paddle?! Never in my life have I ever had a paddle used on me.

"Adam, no!" I begged.

"We're almost done," he said, again in that same tone as before. As if he was encouraging me to not give up on something

that I was doing. As if he was comforting me.

And, then, I don't know where he'd had it, but he swatted me with it. It was the most horrible thing I've ever felt. It hurt worse

than when I'd broken my wrist last year. At least, I think it did.

I pitched forward, or felt as though I was going to, but his hand was there, in the center of my back, pressing down.

"One more," he said.

I was sobbing by now. "Please-don't!" I begged.

And then, the second swat with the paddle. I was convinced that my backside was on fire. He held me there, in that position, for

a couple of moments, rubbing my back, but not saying anything.

And, then he eased me up, and back on my feet. I stood there, reeling, breathing hard, as he took that evil thing, the paddle,

and went to put it on a higher shelf beyond the stalls. Then, he walked back over to where I stood. I would have liked to have

acted tough, as though I wasn't that bothered, but at that point, there was no pretending to be done.

I could hardly stand still. I felt as though I wanted to hop around, and try to rub the sting away.

I was sobbing when he pulled me into his chest, wrapping both his arms around me. I pressed my face into the center of his

chest and cried.

7


	34. Aftermath

I don't know just how long Adam and I were out there, in the barn. Or how long that we stood there, with his arms wrapped around me.

We were quiet during that time, but his arms never seemed to loosen.

There was a voice at the walk-in door of the barn, creaking as it was opened.

"Everything alright?" It was Ford.

Before Ford was completely into the barn, Adam said, "We'll be in shortly."

"Okay," Ford said, sounding reluctant to go.

When he had gone, Adam rubbed his hand over my back.

"Your brother's worried about you," he said.

"Yeah," I said, speaking for the first time. I raised my head from his chest, and swiped at my cheek with my hand.

Adam reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of Kleenex. He handed it to me. He'd come prepared with Kleenex.

He'd known that I would be a blubbering mess.

I mopped at my face with the Kleenex.

"Harlie," he said, and I looked up to meet his eyes.

"I don't want to have to do that, ever again. Understand me?" he said.

I nodded. My breathing still was sort of ragged sounding.

"No matter what it is, you tell me straight. No more lies," he added.

"I promise," I said. It wasn't loud, but I said it.

"Okay," he said, and ran his hand over my back again, in small circles. "Because you're a better person than to lie that

way."

A couple more moments went by, and then he said, "Ready to go inside?"

I wasn't ready. But, I planned to avoid everybody, if at all possible. And go straight to my room.

I settled for a nod, and we walked out of the barn, and toward the house together. Adam didn't try to hold my hand, or anything

like that, and I was glad about it. We went into the back door.

And, I could hear voices before we even got there, in the kitchen.

I looked up at Adam, as he was holding the door open for me.

"Can I go to my room?" I asked him, desperate to take those back stairs, and avoid everybody.

"Do your shot, and then you can," he said.

Stupid shot. I'd forgotten it in the moment.

When we went into the kitchen, it was only Clare there. And Guthrie. That, to me, was much preferable over certain others that could have

been there. Clare was making a cup of tea, and Guthrie was pouring milk.

I didn't really look at either of them, as I got out my supplies.

"Hey," Guthrie said in greeting, as we came in.

"Hey," Adam answered.

Adam headed towards the living room, and as he passed behind me, he ran his hand over my hair. Just for the briefest of

moments. And, then he was gone.

I was ready to do my shot, but my hands were shaking. I stopped, trying not to start crying again. I could feel both of them

watching me.

Clare stepped up beside me. "Here," she said, quietly. "Let me."

I let her take it from me, and she gave me the shot, quick and efficient.

"Thanks," I mumbled, and began putting things away.

I turned to meet Guthrie's eyes, and he gave me a look of sympathy. I wasn't sure just what he knew, but he knows me well

enough to sense it was something major.

"Got your tea?" a voice at the doorway asked. Brian. Talking to Clare.

"Yeah. I've got it," Clare said, finishing stirring the sugar in, and putting the spoon into the sink.

She went to where Brian was standing. "I'm going up to bed," she told him. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah. I'll be right there," he said.

Brian came on into the kitchen, and set the empty popcorn bowl in the sink.

I turned quickly, ready to head upstairs to the sanctuary of my bedroom. I paused at the bottom of the back stairs.

"Bri?" I said softly.

Brian turned from the sink. "Yeah?"

I summoned my nerve, and said, "Can I talk to you, in the morning?"

He gave me an eye to eye look, and said, sounding somber, but not angry, "Yeah. You can."

"Okay," I managed. I flicked another glance at Guthrie. "'Night," I said, and headed up.

I could hear Brian telling me 'goodnight' as I went.

7

Once in the sanctuary of my tiny bedroom, I turned on the lamp, and took off my boots. And, I took them off while standing up.

I felt better somehow, just being in my room. It seemed cozy and comforting right then. I thought about going to brush

my teeth, but I didn't do it.

I took out my latest novel that I was reading. I went to lay down on my bed to read, to try to relax enough to sleep.

It was no use, though. I couldn't concentrate on the words on the pages. I put it down, and instead, I just laid there, staring at the

ceiling, and at all my dolphins that are on the shelves in my room.

There was a light tap at the door.

"It's me, Har," Guthrie said. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah."

He opened the door, standing there for a few moments, just looking at me, and then he closed the door.

He came over to stand near the bed. "You okay?" he asked.

"No," I said, in honesty. "But, I guess I will be."

"Is this about the day you ditched your truck?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"He find out that you lied?" Guthrie asked.

"I told him."

"Oh," Guthrie said, and came over to sit on the edge of my bed.

"He knew, anyway," I said. "They both knew."

"He say so?"

"No. He didn't say he knew. I just-" I hesitated, looking up at Guthrie from where I was laying. "I just know. He's been giving me

openings for days to tell him. So has Brian."

"He give you a rough grounding?" Guthrie asked.

"A week of no driving," I said.

"That's not bad," Guthrie said, trying to sound encouraging. I realized that he didn't know just how 'rough' it had

gotten with Adam. I was embarrassed, but it wasn't so much so with Guthrie. Evan would have told me that I deserved what I'd gotten,

and Daniel might have said the same, though he would have been less abrupt than Evan about it. But, Guthrie, well, he wouldn't say anything

about whether or not I deserved it. He would just offer a listening ear, and an understanding.

"He was mostly upset about the lying part of it," I said.

At Guthrie's nod, I added, "He spanked me."

Guthrie looked a little surprised. "He did?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh." Guthrie looked genuinely regretful. "Man, that is rough. I'm sorry, Har."

"Yeah." I turned onto my side, facing Guthrie, and putting one arm under my head. "It was horrible." Tears began squeezing

out of my eyes.

"Don't cry, Har," Guthrie said. Guthrie's never been good with my tears. Well, with anybody's tears, really. "I don't see why

he had to do that," he added, sounding a little angry.

I thought about telling Guthrie about the paddle, but he already seemed ready to leap to my defense. And, I didn't want Adam to

think I'd run whining to Guthrie about it. And, if Guthrie were to get smart-ass with Adam about it, then that would only get

Guthrie into trouble, anyway. I thought that I might tell him sometime. Just not tonight.

7

After he'd sat awhile longer, and we'd just talked about other things, like school, or Kenny coming home, then Guthrie

went on to bed.

I left my lamp on for awhile longer. I meant to get up to turn it off, but I was so unwilling to move, drifting nearly into sleep, that

I didn't get up.

I was still in that stage, between not-quite-asleep, and asleep, when I sensed that my lamp was being

turned off. The room went dark, as I opened my eyes, just a little, still sleepy.

My quilt was being taken from the foot of my bed, and somebody covered me with it. I could tell from the movements

who it was. It's funny about things like that. Even in darkness, I think I could pick out a brother, just by his actions.

I guess he thought I was totally asleep, and I did nothing to dispute that. I was quiet, and didn't say anything to him at all.

7

As I drifted off into total sleep, I was thinking of Adam, coming into my room and covering me up like that. I was still thinking of that

when I woke up. I took a look at my clock when I woke up. 7:15 a.m. I must have slept hard, and well, because I didn't feel

draggy or still-tired.

I got up, and went to the bathroom, and then went back to my room. I found tattered jeans, and an old Waylon Jennings t-shirt and

got dressed. I would, I thought, change later, before people started arriving for the bridal shower. Once I was dressed in the shabby

stuff, though, I realized I didn't know if we were all going to church that morning, or not. I figured I would go down to breakfast, dressed

as I was, and find out then. I pulled on my socks, too, and went downstairs. I went thru the living room, surprised at how much

work they'd continued doing, while I was in the barn the night before. The tables were all set up, five of them, with chairs spread around. The couches

and the recliners had been pushed along one of the walls.

There were light blue tablecloths on the tables, and centerpieces of tiny hay bales tied with blue ribbons.

Entering the kitchen, it was to find the table full of McFaddens, in various stages of eating breakfast. Brian was at the stove, turning

bacon on a griddle. A huge platter of pancakes was being passed around the table.

There were several 'good mornings' tossed my way. I said a quiet, 'Morning' in a general way.

I slid into my seat at the table between Hannah and Guthrie. Hannah was busy looking over a list, a pencil tucked behind one of her ears.

"We just need to bake and decorate the cake, and then I've got those cookies put in the freezer that we need to pull out-" she was

saying.

"The cookies in which freezer?" Evan asked, looking up from his pancakes.

"The freezer up here," Hannah said, gesturing to the back porch where there was a small upright freezer.

"Oh," Evan said, looking over at Guthrie.

Hannah looked from Evan to Guthrie, letting the list drop to the table. "You didn't," she accused.

"Sorry, Hannah," Guthrie said, with a hint of a grin at the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah. Sorry," Evan echoed.

"We just thought they were regular cookies," Guthrie said. "You know?"

"Regular?" Hannah asked.

"Yeah. Cookies that we could eat," Evan tossed in.

"How many of them did you two eat?" Hannah asked, then.

"Not all of 'em," Guthrie said.

"We need those to fill out the space when the cake is gone, or for those people who don't want cake," Hannah said.

"I'm sure it's fine," Adam said, from his end of the table. "If you're running short, Guthrie can go to town and get

some of those slice-and-bake cookies to fill in the spot."

"There you go," Evan said, to Hannah, with a grin, as if to say, 'problem solved'.

"I'll add that to the list of things to do," Hannah said. She pulled the pencil from behind her ear, and wrote on the list. "Trip to town

to get cookie dough."

There were a few chuckles around the table at that comment.

Crane was standing up, pouring juice into his own glass, and then Evan's.

"Want some, peanut?" he asked me.

I nodded, and he reached across to pour juice into my glass.

"Thanks," I said. I looked to Hannah, picking up the glass to take a drink. "We're not going to church this morning?" I asked.

"No. There's still a lot of things that need doing before the shower at three."

As the platter of pancakes was passed to me, I forked two off the top, and smothered them with peanut butter.

As I ate, I stayed quiet, mostly. At one point, Hannah reached over and patted my hand.

"You alright?" she asked me, softly.

I met her eyes, only for a moment. I knew that she knew exactly what had transpired the evening before, between Adam and

I. Her eyes were full of kindness. Concern.

I nodded in answer. I wasn't really alright. But, what could I say, really? I finished my pancakes, as Brian came along, carrying the plate of bacon.

"Who wants bacon?" he asked, and forked it onto Evan's plate, and then Adam's. On the other side of the table,

he sat at his own seat, taking several slices, and then handed it on to Clare. Clare didn't take any, but

Guthrie took several for himself, and then offered it to me.

I shook my head. "No, thanks."

Once breakfast was over, everybody started milling around. Sunday is typically the day of the week where my brothers

take it a little easier, only doing basic chores. Hannah planned on starting to stir up the cake for the shower. Clare

said she would fold the mountain of laundry that had accumulated in baskets around the house.

Hannah checked on those freezer cookies, to see how many the boys had gone thru. After that, Guthrie was told to make that trip

to town, to bring home some of that ready-made cookie dough.

He paused by the front door, surveying Hannah and I, as we blew up balloons for some of the decorations.

"Wanna come with, Har?" he asked me.

I looked at Guthrie, and then at Hannah.

"You can if you want," Hannah said. "I'm just waiting for the cake to be done, and then I'll start decorating it. We're done with

the decorations, except for what Kelly's bringing. She should be here after lunch sometime." She tied the balloon she'd just

blown up. "So, go on if you want to."

I thought for a moment, but suddenly decided that I didn't want to go. I wanted to find Ford, if I could, and I still

needed to talk to Brian at some point. And, I still felt weird. Like I was hurting inside.

"Thanks," I told Guthrie. "But I think I'll stay here."

"Okay," Guthrie said, and paused at the front doorway. "I was thinkin' of picking Kenny up, and bringing him back home

with me for the day. That okay, Hannah?"

Hannah tied off the last balloon, and stood up. "I didn't realize that he was home already."

"Yeah," Guthrie said, grinning a huge grin. "He got to come yesterday. A week early."

"That's good," Hannah said, rubbing Guthrie's shoulder affectionately. "Well, sure, he can come back with you. He can have lunch

with us."

"Thanks, Hannah," Guthrie said. And, he was gone, out the door, letting it slam shut.

"He's so happy," Hannah said, looking after him.

"It's nice to see," Clare said, from where she sat, folding the laundry.

After Hannah had gone to the kitchen to check on the cake, I sat there for a couple of moments, looking at Clare.

She looked up, too, and met my eyes, looking sympathetic.

"I guess you know what happened," I said, picking up a stray sock of somebody's that had fallen out of one of the baskets.

"I know some of it," she said.

I nodded, and then sighed.

"I need to talk to Brian," I said.

Clare didn't really say anything. She just sort of smiled.

"Is he-" I hesitated. "Furious with me?"

"He was upset," Clare said, in honesty, though she said it gently. "I don't know that he's furious."

I sighed again, and stood up. "I better go find him."

"Toots," Clare said, and I paused, looking at her.

"Even if he's telling you off, remember something. Brian adores you," she said, softly.

I nodded, and went outside. It really was a beautiful morning. I wished I could just go off somewhere. Walking.

7

When I first went out, I checked on the goats. I refilled the water tank with fresh water from the hose. I could see, from where I

stood now, two riders a distance away, in the pasture. Crane, I thought, and Adam. I wasn't a 100 percent certain, but I thought so.

I heard clattering, and when I looked towards the barn, I saw Brian there, carrying a crate. He went just inside the barn, and set

the crate on a makeshift table, that the boys had fashioned from putting a piece of plywood over two saw-horses. He disappeared inside,

and then came out with one of the tall welding stools.

They're really just like bar stools, except they're a lot rougher looking, and my brothers use them to sit on while they're

welding stuff.

I turned off the water to the water tank, and coiled the hose back up, neatly, and came out of the pen.

Closing the gate, I wiped my hands on my jeans, and stood, watching Brian for a couple of minutes.

No sense putting it off, I thought. I wanted to sleep well tonight again. I didn't want this hanging over my head.

I walked over, slowly, to where Brian was sitting. I could see the cattle ear tags laid out on the plywood table. I came to

stand beside the table.

"Hi," I said, quietly.

Brian looked up, his gaze steady on my face. "Hi."

I ran my tongue over my lips, thinking of what to say.

I nodded toward the ear tags spread over the table. "Ear tag time, huh?"

"Yeah. We need to get the calves born this year tagged. We should've had it done before now," he said.

He looked back down then, and picked up the permanent black marker, writing in the corner.

"Birthdate year?" I asked, even though I was fairly sure that was what he was doing.

"Yeah," Brian said, writing an '8' for '1988' on one tag, then another.

"I can help, if you want me to," I offered.

"I've got one marker, and only fifty or so of them to do," Brian said.

"Oh. Okay," I said.

Brian lifted his gaze to me again. He must have thought he'd sounded too abrupt or something to me, because he said, "You can

sit here with me, though, if you want to."

I met his eye. I recognized the offer for what it was. A chance to take care of business. A kind one.

"Okay," I said. I eased myself up onto the table, and sat cross-legged, facing him.

Things were quiet for a couple of minutes, and then Brian said, "Things still crazy in the house?"

"Yeah," I said. "Well, kind of. Mostly the decorating is done. Except for the cake."

"Ah," Brian said, with a nod.

He went on, writing the small, black 8's.

I plunged in. "I know that you know I lied."

Brian looked up, briefly, and then back down again. I didn't take it as a very good sign that he didn't really say anything.

"I did it for reasons that are-" I hesitated. "Dumb. Childish. I didn't want to get grounded, and I didn't want you to-" and here I

hesitated yet again.

If I'd thought that Brian would offer some words, make it easier, I would have been wrong.

"I knew you'd think it was stupid, what I did," I said, instead.

"It was darn careless, is what it was," Brian said, lifting his eyes to me.

"Yeah," I agreed, humbly.

Brian went back to writing numbers again. He looked as though he was thinking hard about something.

"I know you hate lying," I went on. "More than anything else. And, I'm sorry for it."

After that, I just sat there, fiddling with one of the ear tags in my hands.

After a few moments, Brian said, "Do you know what a person's character is?"

"Um, yeah," I said. "It means whether somebody has morals, and is honest, and all that. Right?"

"Yeah. Somethin' like that." He put down the marker, and rubbed his hands on his jeans, looking at me. "You have a lot of compassion in

you."

He surprised me. Not a lecture, but a compliment.

"You care for other people," he said. "Your heart is pure, peach. There's no worries about that."

I watched him, feeling emotional.

"Just make sure your character keeps even with your heart," he said, then.

7


	35. Sifting thru the moments

After Brian said that, the part about my character keeping even with my heart, I was quiet for a few minutes. I tucked my legs up

against my chest, and wrapped my arms around my knees. He went on, then, writing on the ear tags. The silence wasn't bad now, though.

I could tell he wasn't super angry at me anymore. He was still a little stern in his mannerisms, but it was alright.

I was still sitting there, watching him, when Ford came roaring up on one of the four-wheelers.

"How's it goin' up at the cabin?" Brian asked him, as Ford shut off the motor.

"It's comin' along," Ford said. "Evan says he's workin' thru lunch, so I came to grab some grub to take back up."

"Ah," Brian said, with a nod. "Well, tell him I'll come up after lunch and help for awhile."

"Okay," Ford said. He came closer and gave me a dig in my ribs. "Hey, you."

"Hey," I said, pulling back. He'd found my ticklish spot.

"How was your date last night?" Brian asked then, as he kept on with his marking of the ear tags.

Yeah. I was wondering that myself. I looked at Ford expectantly, and was surprised to see the grin on his face.

"It went fine," he said, and the way he said 'fine' said something more.

Nothing over the top, or anything. I mean, I knew he didn't mean that he and Felicity had had sex or anything. First of all, Ford's

not that type of guy. He's too shy, and, well-I just knew that's not what he'd meant. Still, that grin was something.

"Yeah?" Brian asked, looking up.

"Yeah. She's an interesting girl," Ford said.

I sort of looked at Brian, and he smiled a little. "Interesting," he repeated.

"Yeah. Interesting," Ford said.

"Are you going out with her again?" I heard myself asking.

"Yeah, probably," Ford said, and then amended it to, "Maybe so." He grinned again. "Well, I gotta get back up there to help Evan." He turned

to start towards the house, and Brian and I both watched him go. It seemed to me that Ford had a sort of a 'spring' to his

step, if that makes any sense. I wondered if Brian saw it, too.

"So Beans has found himself an 'interesting' girl," Brian said, shaking his head a little, and then going back to his writing task.

I was quiet for a few minutes, thinking. I wondered if I should be worried about Ford and Felicity. I mean, not worried, exactly.

But, I didn't think that Felicity had told Ford yet about the baby she'd placed for adoption last year. Because, firstly, I knew from Bill

that she didn't discuss it with a lot of people. And, too, I didn't think Ford would have been quite that jaunty in his demeanor if she

had. Not that he would judge, or anything, but I would have thought he'd have been more reticent, not so-well, jubilant.

I looked toward the house again, as if I was going to still see Ford there, though he'd long gone inside.

"I didn't know Ford would want to take Felicity out-" I said. "More than one time, I mean."

"Well, it's good, right?" Brian asked. "You fixed it up, and now he's interested."

"I guess so," I said, still thinking to myself.

Brian raised his head. "You don't sound very sure about it."

I hesitated. I hadn't said anything to anybody at all about what Bill had told me, about Felicity. I'd meant to keep my word to him,

and there'd been no reason for me to break that. But, Ford had taken Felicity out a second time, all on his own initiative, and now

he seemed, well, interested, as Brian had said.

If I told Hannah about it, she might start worrying about Ford getting in over his head with a girl that had a somewhat past. She wouldn't

be judging, exactly. She'd just get stirred up. I could talk to Guthrie about it, too.

I decided there was no harm in telling Brian, though. He wouldn't be shocked, at least I didn't think so, and he wouldn't immediately

think it a situation that was concerning. It might help to get his take on things.

"If I tell you something, it can be between us, right?" I asked.

Brian eyed me. "If that's what you want," he said.

I explained, briefly, what Bill had told me about Felicity, and how he'd asked me not to say anything to Ford about it.

True to what I'd anticipated, Brian didn't look shocked, or anything like that. He began to pick up the completed ear tags,

and put them back into the crate. I grabbed some to help, too.

"That's some heavy stuff there, alright," Brian said, in response to what I'd told him.

"Yeah."

We'd finished picking all of the tags up, and for a moment or so, there was silence.

"Bill said since it was just a casual date the first time, that would I not say anything to Ford about it," I went on. "And, I

didn't think that was a wrong thing to do. Do you think it was?"

"I don't think it was wrong, no," Brian said.

"But, then, he took her out last night. And now, he's going to keep dating her," I said.

"He didn't say that for certain," Brian reminded me. "He said he might."

"Probably," I corrected. "He said probably, Bri."

"Yeah. I guess he did, didn't he?"

"I think he really likes her," I said, and just then, Ford came back out of the house, the screen door slapping shut, and

carrying a canvas bag that was obviously stuffed with food items.

We both watched as Ford approached us. He slung the bag over the hand grip of the four-wheeler, and then

got back on. "See ya later," he said, and with another grin, and a jaunty wave, he started the motor and drove off.

"What do you think?" I asked him. "Should Ford know?"

"Maybe she'll tell Ford herself," Brian suggested.

"Maybe," I said.

"Right now, I think it's still her business," Brian said. "It's not like Ford's plannin' out the future for the two of them, or anything."

"Right," I agreed.

"I'd say to wait. See if it's somethin' that continues on, or if one of them loses interest," Brian said. "If they do keep seein'

each other, then I'd say he needs to be told, so he can make up his own mind."

"Okay," I said. "Like how many more dates before he should know?" I asked. "One or two?"

"I don't know, peach. I'd say don't worry about it yet," he advised.

"Okay," I said again, I sighed a little. "I just don't want Ford's feelings to be hurt, or-for him to be disillusioned."

"Disillusioned, huh?" Brian asked, sounding amused.

"Yeah."

"Well, like I said, just wait it out a bit," he said.

"Okay," I said.

7

I'd gone back into the house again after that, and the table was being prepared for lunch. Sandwich fixings, and chips were out, and

we were using paper plates. No dishes to do.

We heard Guthrie's truck, and I went to the kitchen window to look out.

"Guthrie's here," I announced.

"Is Kenny with him?" Hannah asked, and when I said that he was, Hannah and I went to the front porch, just as

Adam, Brian and Crane were all appearing from various directions.

It seemed to me that Kenny had grown since I'd seen him last. His hair was still shorter than what he'd always worn it before, but

he looked taller. Lean. He was dressed in typical teen boy attire, for our area. Jeans and a button up western short-sleeved shirt,

boots and a ball cap that proclaimed, 'San Diego Padres'.

As he and Guthrie were walking up, he was overtaken by the others. Adam held out a hand and he and Kenny shook hands, while Crane

clapped a hand on Kenny's shoulder, and talked to him for a couple of minutes.

When Kenny turned to Brian, I was surprised, a bit, when Brian gave Kenny a quick guy-type of hug, and then, when he'd stepped back,

he gave Kenny's face a pat with one hand.

"Hullo, Kenny," Hannah said, as Kenny stood at the bottom of the porch stairs. I realized that none of the family, including Hannah, had

seen Kenny since he'd been gone. Except for Guthrie, and I, and Crane, that is.

"Hello, Hannah."

"Lunch isn't much today," Hannah told him. "But, we're glad you're here to eat with us."

Kenny nodded. "Thanks. For letting me come over." He looked a little embarrassed. Even shy.

Hannah surveyed him for a long moment, and then said, "Don't be silly," and stepped down a stair to give him a hug.

Everybody sort of started crowding onto the porch then, going inside.

Kenny was asking Hannah about Isaac, and Hannah was telling him that he would be shocked when he saw how much the

baby had grown.

Kenny paused beside me, just as I was about to go inside.

I paused, too, and we looked at each other.

"Hey, Harlie," he said.

"Hi, Kenny."

"How have you been?" he asked.

"I'm okay. How are you?" I asked.

"I'm great. Glad to be home," he said.

I thought how our conversation was a little stilted. Boring.

"I guess we can talk about the weather now," he said, and I saw a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

"I guess we could," I agreed.

And then he smiled at me. A full-out smile. A grin resplendent of the old Kenny. Before he'd started drinking so much,

and getting into trouble.

"You look good, Harlie," he said then. "As beautiful as ever."

"Thanks," I said. "And you're as full of it as ever."

His grin stayed in place, and then, he reached out and swept me up, picking me up off my feet, and twirling me around

a little.

Just as he was setting me down again, Brian's voice came thru the screen door. "If you're done huggin' on my little sister, it's time to

sit down to eat, Kenny," in a dry, teasing tone.

"Yes, sir," Kenny said, and with a flourish he opened the screen door, and ushered me inside ahead of him.

7

Lunch was loud, and light-hearted. I could tell Kenny felt more relaxed now, and was enjoying being back at our table

again.

As soon as lunch was over, the guys got put to work cleaning up the kitchen and putting things away. I headed upstairs to

get changed for the shower, and by the time I came back down again, Kelly was there. She'd been Nancy's friend a long time, and was

her maid of honor. She'd brought some extra decorations, and she was busy doing that, while Hannah was arranging the table

with the cake and cookies on it. There were all the things to do, that crop up at the last minute at times like these.

I'd changed to a pair of corduroy jeans, and a blue blouse, and Clare had done my hair in a French braid. Since it was sort

of a special occasion, I'd put on a little makeup. Not a lot, just some eye liner and mascara, and changed my standard gold stud earrings

to a pair that looked like blue stones.

When all the male McFaddens, and Kenny, too, came in, they announced they were all heading up to the cabin, to

help Evan the rest of the afternoon.

Brian was talking to Clare over to one side, sort of quietly, and Crane went out to greet Cindy, who was arriving a bit

early for the shower. I was walking past where Adam and Hannah were standing, talking, carrying a vase of flowers to put

on the table by the front door. They paused in their talking, and Hannah said, "That looks nice, sweetie."

"Thanks," I said. "Do you think on the table by the front door is a good place?"

"I think that's great," Hannah said.

I set the vase down, and when I turned again, they were both looking at me. I felt sort of funny. Self-conscious. I

didn't want any attention really drawn to myself. Not where Adam was concerned. I still hadn't sorted out all my

feelings from the night before.

I would have walked on past, but Hannah put a hand out, lightly, on my wrist. "It's been so busy around here this

morning, hasn't it, sweetie?"

"Yeah. It's been busy," I agreed.

And then, there was a few moments of silence. Her hand was still on my wrist, and, other than shrugging it off, which I wasn't going

to do, I pretty much had to stand there.

"I'm going to be tired tonight," she said. "I know that."

"Me, too," I said.

I felt Adam's eyes on me, and I looked towards him. He was, indeed, watching me, and he gave me a half-smile. A tentative

half-smile. "You look real nice, sugar," he said.

"Thanks," I said.

And then, another moment of quiet. "I know you two want to talk a minute," Hannah said. "I'll go check to see if the punch is ready."

And, then, she was gone, in a whirlwind of energy towards the kitchen, taking Cindy with her.

Talk? I stood, quiet. Adam and I exchanged a glance again. I didn't want to stand there. I don't know why, but I didn't.

"Did you want to talk to me?" I asked, trying to sound respectful, but yet, ready to make my escape. So to speak.

"No," he said, and then added, "I mean, not about anything in particular."

"Oh," I said.

"Did you want to talk to me?" he asked then.

"No." I swept my eyes up to his. "I mean, there's not anything."

He nodded then, his eyes still steady on me.

Okay, this had to be the most awkward conversation I'd ever had with Adam. It was weird. And very uncomfortable. It was

worse than earlier when Kenny and I had muffed our attempt at conversation. It was worse because, well, because this

was Adam, for gosh sakes.

The house was reverberating with noise. "Adam, you ready to go?" Brian was hollering.

"Yeah," Adam said, and then his eyes lit on me again.

I couldn't take it. "Well, see ya," I said, and went to join the kitchen preparations.

7

The shower was nice. Nancy was, it seemed to me, to be glowing with happiness. She received some really good

gifts, too. Her sister had come, and had also brought her three kids. Two boys and a girl. Besides Isaac, they were the

only kids there. They went outside to play while the gifts were being opened, and then, while the cake was being cut, and

served with the punch, Hannah took me aside quietly, and asked me to go check and see what the kids were up to.

I went outside, and it didn't take long to find the kids. Two of them, the boys, were up in the hayloft, and swinging off the rope, yelling.

The girl, I thought her name was Patty, was about six or so, and she was standing on a stool peering into the stall where

Pepe was at.

As I came in, she turned to look at me. "There's a skunk in here!" she shouted, as if warning me.

"I know," I said. I came over to stand beside her. "That's Pepe."

"Why is she in here?" the little girl persisted, still really loudly.

"Shh," I told her. "He doesn't like it if you yell really loud." Pepe was making his anxious noise.

"Why is she in here?" she asked again, now in an exaggerated whisper.

I nearly smiled. She was a cute little kid. "It's a he. And he's staying in here, because we need to fix the

hutch he was staying in."

"Isn't he gonna spray?" she asked.

"No. He's descented." At her puzzled look, I explained, "It means that he's been fixed so that he can't spray."

"Can I hold him?" she asked.

"We probably better not," I said. "Sometimes, he might bite if he gets scared."

"Oh." She gazed down at Pepe in longing. "He's so cute."

Now, I did smile. "Yeah. He is cute."

I persuaded Patty to come back inside with me, and even got the two boys to come, with the promise of a bunch of cookies.

I got the kids their cookies, and when they wrinkled their noses at the taste of the punch, I mixed them up some Koolaid.

I was refilling their glasses when their mother, Nancy's sister, came into the kitchen.

"Here you are," she said, to the kids, as if she'd been looking all over for them.

Patty began telling her mother all about Pepe, but Nancy's sister had the same reaction as most people when they

hear about a skunk.

"You didn't touch it, did you?" she asked Patty, sounding panicked.

I answered for her. "No. She didn't."

"Thank heavens." She shuddered. "Skunks are nasty."

"He's not nasty, mama. He's rescented," Patty protested.

"Descented," I corrected.

"Well, they're still nasty. They carry disease."

I hadn't even heard the back door open, and neither had Nancy's sister, apparently, because when he spoke, we were

both surprised to see him there.

"Harlie's skunk has had his shots," Evan said. "He's safe enough."

Evan was there, Guthrie and Kenny with him, and he came over to wash up at the sink.

"Hi, kids," Evan greeted the kids.

The boys had jumped to their feet by now, and were climbing all over Evan, pleading with him to come and toss

the football to them outside.

"In a few minutes, fellas," Evan said.

Nancy had heard Evan's voice, apparently, from the living room. She came into the kitchen, and hooked her arm

thru his. "Come and see all the loot we got," she said.

Guthrie offered to take the boys out and toss the football around with he and Kenny. A suggestion which was met with

enthusiasm by the two boys.

I left Patty to her mom's care, and went back to the living room. Some of the guests were preparing to leave. A few of the church

ladies, and some other friends of Nancy's. By the time, they'd all left, there was only Cindy, Nancy, and Marie left. Even Nancy's sister

gathered up her kids, and went home.

All of the guys were inside by now, too, and it was a full house, indeed. With the three of them, plus Kenny, we were fourteen at

the supper table. Kenny claimed the chair that was squeezed in between me and Guthrie. The meal was rowdy, filled with

conversations, and laughter. At one point, Evan had told a joke, and Kenny was laughing. And, to my surprise, I felt

him take my hand under the table. That's all. He just laced his fingers thru mine, and held it that way. Still.

I looked to my right, at him, sort of in a wondering way. If he'd taken my hand, and squeezed it, and then let it go, I wouldn't

have thought so much of it. But, he held on.

He looked at me, too, and smiled. It was a less boisterous smile than earlier. More subdued. Questioning.

I smiled back at him. He held my hand thru the rest of the meal.

7


	36. And the beat goes on

Cindy and Marie went home a hour or so after supper, and Guthrie left to take Kenny home. Since they would be living in the

line cabin, there was no sense in Nancy taking any of the shower presents to her house in town. She'd only have to cart them back again.

So, it was decided that they would all be stored at our house, until they could be moved to the cabin when it was done.

Ah, but where to put all of them? That was the dilemma. First, Evan suggested that they all be stacked against the other

wall of his bedroom, and on Ford's bed, since he wouldn't be around much.

To this suggestion, Ford said, "Leave enough room on my bed for me to sleep. I'll be home next weekend."

"Really?" Hannah asked, looking pleased. "That's great. We never get to see you this much."

"How come you're coming home every weekend?" Evan asked, and Nancy gave him an admonishing nudge in his ribs.

"I just feel like bein' in the loving circle of my family," Ford said, lifting his hands in a 'what's the problem' type of way.

"You are so full of bullshit," Evan said, with a grin. "I think there's another reason for the sudden desire to be around Murphys every weekend."

Brian and I exchanged a brief look. I had my suspicions and I knew he was thinking the same. Her name be Felicity.

7

I did my shot, and was in my bedroom, already in my pajamas by 8:00 that night. I was tired. It had been a really

eventful weekend, to say the least. Bright spots in it for sure. The bridal shower, and Kenny. But, mostly it was overshadowed by

what had happened with Adam. I wasn't sulking by going upstairs so early. I just felt like being alone.

I read awhile, and finished my homework, and then I started writing up an article for the journalism class. It was just

tentatively written right now. I would still have to do some rewriting and more research. It was on the price to spay or neuter

your pets. I knew that part of it, from working at the vet office. My intent was to write it up, pointing out the relative affordable cost

of doing so, and then I thought I would research how many litters were the norm for most cats and dogs to have. In doing that, I thought

it might show how many unwanted animals were born, just because their owners didn't spay and neuter them.

I left it to finish later, and was in the process of packing up my homework and things, preparing to go to bed, when

there was a light tap at my door.

"Come in," I said.

Ford stuck his head around the door. "Hey."

"Hi," I said.

"Okay if I come in?"

"Sure."

He came in, and came over, sitting down on my bed, and bouncing up and down for a couple of moments.

"Are you staying tonight?" I asked him.

"Yeah. I'm gonna get up early in the morning to head back."

I nodded, and finished zipping up my backpack.

"I figured I better tell you goodbye now, in case I leave before you get up in the morning."

"I'm glad you didn't leave without saying goodbye," I told him.

Ford sort of laid back a little, propped up on his elbows. "I wouldn't do that, goofy."

I sat down on the bed, too, and folded my legs to the side. "You did last time."

"Huh?" Ford asked, looking at me.

"Last week. You left without telling me goodbye."

"No, I didn't," he denied, sounding certain.

When I only looked at him, he wrinkled his forehead, looking less certain. "Did I?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Ford sat back up straight again. "Man, I'm sorry, Har. I didn't even realize."

"It's okay," I said.

"I must have been thinkin' about somethin' else," Ford said, sounding regretful.

"It's okay," I said again.

"Well, it must have bothered you, or you wouldn't have even noticed," he said, studying me.

"It bothered me a little," I admitted. "But, I knew you didn't do it on purpose."

For a couple of moments we just looked at each other, and then Ford said, "I wouldn't ever wanna hurt your

feelings, Har. Not intentionally."

"I know."

He looked so regretful, that I was sorry I'd brought it up at all.

"I recovered," I said, lightly.

"Okay," he said.

I thought about asking him about Felicity, but then I figured I would wait. He might end up not going out with her again, anyway.

Instead, I stretched my legs out, and rested my feet on his leg.

"Tell me about some of your classes," I suggested.

And, so, we were talking about stuff, when Adam appeared in the open doorway. I saw him first, and then Ford did, and

we tapered off with our conversation.

"Hey, Adam," Ford said.

"Hey. We're finishing up what's left of the cake from the shower, if you two are interested," Adam said.

"I could go for a piece of cake," Ford said.

Adam nodded, and looked at me. I hadn't said anything.

"How about you?" he asked me, and I could tell he was trying to be nice.

"No, thanks," I said.

"Okay," Adam said. He hesitated, and then said, "Listen, Harlie, about tomorrow, you can ride to school to Guthrie, and

then Clare has a doctor appointment, so she's gonna pick you up and take you to Ivy's. One of us can run in to get you when

you're done. Alright?"

That seemed like an awfully lot of running around to accomplish getting me to the vet office, but I wasn't going to say

so. I just nodded, and said, "Okay."

He nodded, and Ford said, "I'll be down in a minute. Don't let Evan or Guthrie get my share of the cake."

"I'll do my best," Adam said. He looked at me again. "'Night," he said.

"Goodnight," I answered.

When he'd gone, Ford looked thoughtful. "Adam has somethin' on his mind," he said.

"What makes you say that?" I asked, though I didn't disagree at all.

Ford shrugged. "Just seems as though he does. He gets that way, like he's thinkin' all the time, tryin' to figure

somethin' out."

He stood up, then, and held out both his hands to me. "Come on, stand up," he ordered.

"How come?" I asked.

"So I can hug you goodbye, you goof."

"Oh," I said, and then took his hands and let him pull me up. "Well, okay," I said, jokingly. "I guess that's a good enough reason to get up."

Ford's hug was fierce. Hard.

"Good grief," I told him. "You're squeezing the stuffing out of me, Ford!"

"Just makin' up for the one I forgot to give you last week," he told me.

7

I was quiet, thinking a lot, as Guthrie and I drove to school the next morning. Guthrie was bemoaning the fact that

we never had a day off of school.

"Why can't we have some good luck?" he asked. "Like, say, a water pipe was to break and flood the school, and it took a week or

so to clean it all up."

I shook my head at his nonsense. "Not going to happen, Guth."

Once we were at the high school, Guthrie didn't head inside right away, and when I asked him why, he

said he was waiting for Kenny to show up.

"I wanna walk in with him, with it bein' his first day back and all," Guthrie said. "He's sort of nervous."

I offered to wait, too, but Guthrie said I didn't have to.

"I'll see ya at lunch, maybe," he told me.

My morning passed by fairly quickly, it seemed. I was determined to buckle down and not have any more trouble with

my grades. I let Miss McQueeney read my article about the necessity of controlling unwanted puppies being born, and she

liked it. She told me to finish up the research on it, and get it turned in. She asked me if I wanted to cover the football game

that coming Friday night, taking pictures and all. I told her I'd let her know about that.

I saw Kenny a couple of times in the hallways, between classes, and he waved at me. It seemed as though Guthrie, or Trent, or Lonnie

was always with him, and I wondered if the boys had planned it that way.

At lunchtime, outside, a big group of us sat together. I found a moment to ask Kenny how his morning had gone.

He shrugged a little, and then said, "It's just gonna take awhile. For some of the kids to get used to me bein' around

again."

I could tell from the way he said it, that he must have had some stuff said to him by someone. Someone who wanted to remind him

that he'd disgraced Murphys, or his family.

After lunch, I had my last class of the day, and then I gathered up my homework, and went up front to the office, to wait

for Clare to come and get me.

When she did come, I was sorry to see that she looked pale and washed-out. As if she could literally puke at any moment.

"How did it go at the doctor's?" I asked her, wondering if I should even ask.

"Fine. Good," she said, as we walked down the school steps out front.

Once we were in her small car, though, she turned to look at me. "He says I've lost ten pounds, and wants me to not lose any more."

"Wow," I said, looking at her. "That's a lot, huh?"

"Yeah." She sighed a little.

"Can't they give you something, to help with you feeling so nauseous all the time?" I asked.

Clare patted her purse, setting in the seat between us. "I have a prescription to fill that's supposed to help."

"Are you stopping now?" I asked, and when she nodded, I offered to go in and get it for her.

"You know what?" she said, pulling up in front of the drugstore, and parking. "I'm going to take you up on that. It's ridiculous how

tired I am, just from driving to the doctor."

"Not ridiculous," I told her. "You're growing a person. That's bound to make you tired."

"Thanks, toots," she said.

I took the script she'd gotten from the doctor, and the money she gave me, and went into the drugstore, where I wandered around looking at things, while

it was being filled. When I went back out to Clare's car, I repeated all the directions the druggist had told me to relay to Clare.

She nodded, tucking the sack into her purse.

She drove me on to the vet office then, and I got out, noticing that she was just sort of sitting still, her head resting on her hands.

I leaned back in my open window. "Are you alright to drive?" I asked her.

"I'll be alright. I think I'll just sit here for a couple of minutes," Clare said. She didn't sound very certain, though.

I stood there, debating. She really did look awful. I mean, awful as in not looking capable of doing anything at all.

"I'll drive you home," I said. "Let me go in and tell Ivy-"

"Harlie-" Clare began to protest, and I turned back to look at her.

"I don't want you to miss work-" she said, and I noticed that she wasn't refusing my offer because she felt capable, but only

out of concern for me missing work.

"It's fine," I said, and went inside. The bell over the door rang, and I found Ivy, right there, in the front office, a box

of medicines in front of her, and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

She greeted me with a smile. "Hi, Harlie!"

"Hi," I said. I explained quickly, about Clare being right outside in the car, and how I thought I should drive her home.

"Oh, sure, you have to," Ivy agreed, immediately.

"Thanks. I hope it doesn't leave you in the lurch, or anything."

"I'll muddle along without you, for today."

She walked back out with me, waving at Clare. "I'm supposed to come over to your house for supper tonight," she said.

"You are?" I asked.

"I've been invited," she said, and smiled again. She looked so happy. "Crane says he's making lasagna."

"That's great," I said. "Well, see you later."

"At 5:30," Ivy said, sounding jubilant.

7

I drove Clare's car home slowly, carefully. Mostly because I was trying to avoid potholes, so I wouldn't jolt her stomach.

When I'd come back out of the vet office with Ivy, Clare had already moved to the passenger side of the car, and on the way

home she didn't talk much at all. She kept the window down for air, and laid her head back on the headrest, closing her eyes.

Every once in awhile, I could hear her doing some sort of breathing exercise. Softly. Breathe in. Blow air out. Breathe in. Blow

air out.

Even though I tried to avoid bumps and holes, I didn't succeed, totally. After I'd been unsuccessful at detouring around

a patch of them, on the road nearest to our house, I winced in sympathy when she groaned.

"Sorry," I said.

"You're doing fine," she told me, her voice sounding gritty and determined. She still had her eyes closed.

As I turned into our long driveway, and got closer to the house, I saw that several of my brothers were attaching the

ear tags to calves, in the corral. The tags that Brian had been marking the day before.

They took notice of Clare's car, even though they were involved in what they were doing. I saw them all glance up.

I parked the car closer than usual to the house, too. I turned off the motor, and then, thinking that Clare might

actually have dropped off to sleep, since she was so still and quiet, I said, "We're home."

"Mmmm," was Clare's response.

"I'll come around and open the door," I told her, and got out. I was on her side, opening the passenger door,

when I saw a calf be released from the chute, and saw Brian then open the corral gate, and head our direction.

Clare put out a foot onto the ground, and then sat still again. "Oh, golly," she said, with a moan.

"Let me-" I began.

"No," she said, assuming what I was going to say. "Don't get Brian. He'll just get all worried. I'll be alright in

a minute."

Since the topic of our conversation was heading our way, very rapidly, already, I said, "He's walking this way."

"Oh, Lordy," she said.

Clare, thru sheer force, and determination, I guess, got out of the car, and stood, so that she was

upright when Brian walked up to us. Adam, now, was also headed our direction.

"What is it?" Brian asked. "What's wrong?" He laid a hand on Clare's waist.

Clare stood still, looking at him. "Nothing's wrong," she said, with obvious effort.

"Obviously there is somethin'," Brian corrected. "Harlie's drivin' you home. What did the doctor say?"

Adam by now had reached our little group, as well.

Clare looked as though she wanted to pass out, right there. I felt so badly for her. I knew Brian was just worried. Concerned. But,

there's nothing worse than being hammered with questions when you feel sick at your stomach.

"She was feeling a little bit rough," I spoke up.

Clare must have realized there was no point to trying to appear fine, or convince Brian otherwise.

"I was feeling a lot rough," she said. "Not a little. Harlie saved the day by driving me home. Now, can you stop, Brian? Please?"

To my surprise, I saw that Clare looked as though she was going to burst into tears.

"Alright," Brian said, quietly, putting an arm around Clare's waist. "Let's get you inside."

"Bri," I said, reaching into the open car door, and retrieving Clare's purse. When Brian looked back, I said, "There's a

prescription in here that the doctor gave her, to help with the nausea."

"Bring it in, will ya, peach?" he said, and proceeded to get Clare up the front steps.

"K," I said, and shut the car door. Still holding Clare's purse, I looked to Adam. His forehead was all crinkled, like

it gets when he's worried.

For the first time, while I was standing there, and he was looking at me, I realized that I had 'driven'. After he'd told

me I couldn't, until the following Friday. Granted, I'd done it to help Clare. But, still-there was that momentary wonder about

what he would think of it.

Well, I wouldn't care, I thought, feeling self-righteous. Clare had needed me, and I'd done what I had to do. No matter that

it had gone against what he'd said.

"Clare was feeling really bad," I said, clutching Clare's purse against my chest. "I was worried about her driving home

by herself."

"I'm glad you were there for her," Adam said. He still looked as though he was studying over something. "Ivy know you

weren't comin' in today?"

"I went in and told her," I said.

He nodded. "Good."

It didn't seem as though he was going to say anything else about it. I guess I had a little bit of a chip on my shoulder or something.

Because, what I said next, was, "I wasn't deliberately going against what you said."

Adam gave me a puzzled look, obviously not understanding. "What?"

"You said no driving until Friday. I thought you might be angry that I drove her home," I said.

Now, he looked startled, instead of puzzled. "Good grief, Harlie, what do you take me for?" he demanded.

He turned, as if he was going to walk away, but then he turned back. His voice, now, was quiet enough, but I thought I

heard steel underneath. He put his hands on his hips.

"This was a-" he hesitated, "A situation out of the norm. I don't have a thing to say to you about driving today, other

than I'm glad you were there to help Clare out. Does that clear things up for you?"

Now, I'd done it. I was sorry that I'd purposefully baited him. He was good and mad.

"Yes, sir," I said.

Adam stood there a moment or so longer, his eyes snapping with temper.

Now, foolishly, like a little kid, I wished that I could take it back. Adam ran his hand over his face, and then regarded

me again, steadily.

"I feel like something's not right here," Adam said, then, motioning his hand back and forth between himself and me. "Between us."

I admit it, I hadn't expected him to be quite so direct. I don't know why I was surprised that he would be, but I kind of was.

I nibbled at my lower lip, watching him.

"I'm not wrong about that, am I?" Adam asked.

To deny it, well, that wouldn't be truthful. Yet, I wasn't sure just what I felt was the problem, either.

So, that's what I decided to try to explain.

"No," I admitted, slowly. "You're not wrong."

"Okay," he said. "So? What are we gonna do about it?"

I felt really awkward, now. On the spot.

"I don't know," I said, lamely.

"I guess it depends on just exactly what you're upset with me about," Adam said.

"I don't know exactly," I admitted.

"Yeah. Well," he said, "Why don't you do some thinkin' about it, and I'll do the same. And, then, we'll get together, and

talk. Alright?"

I met his eyes, though I found it difficult. I nodded. "Yeah. Alright."

He gave me one last, contemplative glance, and then he turned, and went back over to where Evan and Crane were

still wrestling with the calves in the corral.

7

I immersed myself in household tasks the rest of the afternoon. Since I was home, anyway, I figured I might as well. Hannah

was beginning to look a little haggard. I imagined from the bridal shower the day before, and just everything in general.

I did loads of laundry, carting it upstairs and folding it after it was dried. I did a sink full of dishes left over from lunch that

she hadn't gotten to.

Isaac was teething, so he was extremely fussy. Which isn't his typical mood, at all.

Clare, meanwhile, was installed upstairs in she and Brian's attic rooms, and every so often, Hannah would go upstairs to check

on her. Brian had gone back outside again to work, but he himself came in at least twice that I knew of, that afternoon, to check on her.

Hannah had taken Isaac upstairs to give him a bath, and some baby Tylenol, to see if she could help him to feel better.

I was installed at the kitchen table, working on my homework, and then alternately, my article for the school paper. I'd found

some information in our encyclopedias on the statistics I wanted about dog litters every year.

At sometime after 3:30, Crane came in thru the back door, washing his hands at the kitchen sink.

"How goes it, peanut?" he asked me, cheerfully.

"Good," I said, and watched him as he began preparations for what I supposed was the promised evening meal of lasagna.

Crane was even whistling while he worked, and I nearly smiled.

He caught me at it, too.

"What's that quirky little smile about?" he asked me, as he pulled down Corning Ware casserole dishes from the cabinets.

"Was I smiling?" I asked, widening my eyes innocently.

"Very definitely."

"I guess I'm just thinking you seem awfully happy to be making lasagna."

"How did you know I was making lasagna?" he demanded.

"Oh, a little bird told me," I said, leaning my head back down over my writing again.

7


	37. Bridging the gap

Clare came down for supper, and though she didn't eat much that I could tell, she did manage to finish sitting out the meal

with everybody else. Crane's lasagna was perfection. Add in some garlic bread, and green beans, and it was a really

good meal. Ivy was lively company. She injected a good amount of fun to our group around the table.

She was sitting next to Crane, across the table from where I sat, and every time that Crane said something, it seemed

as though Ivy's gorgeous green eyes sparkled. I mean, it wasn't as though she was obvious about it, or anything weird, but, knowing

what I knew, that she liked Crane the way that she did, well-it spoke for itself.

And then, when supper was over, and the table had been cleared, Ivy and Crane went for a walk.

I was sitting on the top rail of the fence that faces the meadow, just thinking things over. I had just about made up my mind to

tell Ivy that I wouldn't be to work the rest of the week. I mean, if I couldn't drive myself there, or home again, then it just

seemed too much bother.

Warrior wandered over to lay in the grass near me. It was while I was sitting there that I saw the Jack. He was ambling

my way, stopping every once in a while to nibble on meadow grass. I felt my heart leap. I hadn't seen him in over a week.

I dropped off the other side, and went to get some apples from the bin in the barn, and then came right back. I walked

out to meet him, and he seemed, in his own way, glad to see me.

He took an apple from my hand, and I ran my hands over his neck and scratched his forehead.

"Where have you been, fella?" I asked him.

When he'd eaten his second apple, I sat down in the grass right there, while he went back to munching meadow grass.

I tried to do some thinking, while I was sitting there. Just being out here, in the meadow like this, in the quiet, and with the

Jack and my dog nearby, seemed to have a sort of calming influence on me.

I thought over the weekend. Trying to straighten things out in my mind. I just felt sort of bruised from what had happened

with Adam. I mean, not bruised on the outside. Although that spanking he'd given me had definitely left a hurting on me, I didn't

think it had actually left physical bruises. I meant that I felt bruised on the inside. Some of it was embarrassment, sure, but,

also, I think my feelings were a little hurt.

I wasn't mad at Adam, exactly. I knew he'd done what he felt was the right thing to do. I just thought he hadn't needed to

get so tough. And now, things just felt awkward between us.

I heard a whistle, a high-pitched, piercing whistle. When I turned my head, I saw Ivy. She was just a ways off, and she waved.

I waved back, and she came walking on to me.

"Well, hello there, guy," she greeted the Jack. She stood there, giving him an appraising glance.

"He looks good," she surmised.

"Yeah," I agreed.

"He's getting plenty to eat, it looks like."

"Yeah," I said, again. "I don't know where he's been hanging around at. I haven't seen him for awhile."

Ivy sat down beside me in the grass, stretching her legs out.

"I'm going to be heading home soon," she said.

"Supper was good, huh?" I asked her, and she gave me a smile.

"Yes. Supper was very good."

As far as I knew, Crane was still seeing Cindy. There was definitely something between Ivy and him, though.

I hoped that nobody's feelings were going to be hurt.

After we'd sat there a few more minutes, just talking about general things, Ivy said she needed to get going.

"I was thinking-" I said. "I can't drive until Friday, so I don't think I'll be in the rest of the week to work."

"Oh. Well, okay," Ivy said, looking puzzled. "Is your truck broken down? If so I could-"

"It's not that," I said, and then hesitated. "It's something that Adam put down for me." I didn't really want to

explain anything more.

"Oh," Ivy said, and then nodded. "I might be able to come and pick you up at school, and then take you home

if you want me to."

"That's a lot of running for you. What if you got an important call? I wouldn't want you to be late for a call-out

because you were being a taxi for me," I said.

"Maybe I want to," Ivy said. "Did you ever think of that?" She smiled at me.

"Well, if you're sure," I said.

"Alright. So, tomorrow it is," Ivy said. "What time should I be at the school to get you?"

"Twelve-fifteen."

"Okay." She stood up, brushing off her jeans. "See you then."

"Okay. Bye."

After Ivy had gone, walking back towards the house, I went on sitting there. The sun was lowering in the sky to the

west.

7

It was getting cooler. I began to wish I'd brought a jacket out with me. I could have gotten up to go get

one, but I wasn't ready to go inside the house yet. I tucked my legs up to my chest, and rubbed my hands up and down

my arms.

I heard someone else coming. Swishing thru the grass. I turned, just a little, to look. And, then, I turned back

to face forward again, watching the Jack.

Adam paused, standing beside me. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." I looked up at him, quickly, and then back down again.

Adam eased himself down onto the ground, beside me, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

"Here," he said, handing off a sweatshirt to me.

I took the sweatshirt from him, again feeling a conflict in emotion. He'd brought me a sweatshirt so I wouldn't be cold.

"Thanks," I said.

"Temperature's really dropping," he said.

I pulled the sweatshirt on over my head, tugging it down. It wasn't even my sweatshirt. It was pretty raggedy, and I thought

it might be one of Evan's old ones. Adam must have picked it up off the back porch before he headed out here.

We sat there in quiet for a few moments, and then I ventured forward in what I had to tell him.

"Ivy's going to come pick me up at school, and then bring me home after work the rest of the week," I said.

For a long moment Adam was quiet. "Uh huh," he said.

I looked to my right. "It's not okay?" I asked.

"I just think it's a bit much to ask of Ivy."

"I didn't ask her," I protested. I met his gaze. "I didn't, Adam. She offered."

He nodded a bit, and I went on, "I told her that I thought I wouldn't be into work the rest of the week, and she

offered to come get me."

Adam wrinkled his forehead a little. "Why did you think you wouldn't be to work the rest of the week?" he asked.

"I thought it might be better-easier, if I didn't," I said. "So none of you would have to tote me back and forth."

"I see," he said.

I studied him. There was something in his tone. Great, I thought to myself. I'd ticked him off five seconds into the

conversation.

"Was I wrong?" I asked, wrapping my arms around my knees again. "About it being easier?"

"It's fine," Adam said. "If you and Ivy worked it out, we'll let it go as it is."

I wasn't sure what to think of that. I couldn't tell, really, if he was irritated or not.

"The burro looks good," he said, then.

"Yeah. He does," I agreed, glad to have the subject changed.

"He hasn't been around, has he?"

"No. Not for a week or so," I said. "I don't know where he goes when he's gone like that. And then, he just

reappears."

"Yeah. He's a mysterious little fella," Adam said. "I'd like to know how he gets in and out like he does, when we can never

find a fence down."

"Sometimes I think he's magic," I said.

Adam turned to look at me, a smile at the corner of his mouth. "Well, he's somethin' alright. I don't know if it's magic."

For just a moment, I felt like smiling back. I did smile, just a tiny one, and looked back at the Jack.

"So," Adam said, then. "Should we talk?"

I looked at him again, as he went on talking. "About what it is that's wrong between us?" His eyes were intent on

my face, not wavering.

"I guess it's that-" I hesitated. "I feel embarrassed. And, my feelings are sort of hurt."

"Embarrassed because you think you're too old to be spanked," he said. More as a statement, not a question. "Well, I don't happen

to agree with that. It'd be different if I was takin' you out to the barn once a week to paddle you. That I could go along with. But,

I'm not doin' that. Before Saturday night, I can't even remember the last time I gave you a real spanking." He paused,

still watching me. "So, I don't go along with you thinkin' you're too old."

"It's not that I think I'm too old, exactly," I said, trying to explain. "I guess-it just felt as though-" I hesitated, and then

shook my head in frustration, looking out into the meadow. "I don't know how to explain it."

Adam was quiet for a long few moments then, too. "What about your feelings bein' hurt? Explain that to me."

"It shocked me a little," I admitted. "I feel like you were more-strict, than you had to be."

"Harsh, you mean," he amended.

I nodded.

"I didn't do it in anger, Harlie," he said.

"I know."

"I thought about it, before I did it. And, like I said, it's not as though you get it often-" he went on.

"I know," I said, again.

"Did I not explain things to you the right way? About why I did it?" he asked.

"You did."

"It won't happen again, as long as you don't lie to me," he said.

I nodded, in acknowledgement.

Adam was watching me, looking a little perplexed, as though he was trying to understand.

"Part of it, I think," I began slowly, "Is that I feel badly because-like you said, I've done a bunch of work, rebuilding trust

with everybody after last spring. And then-because of something stupid, I ruined it."

"I wouldn't say ruined. I'd say-" he paused, thinking. "More like a detour on the road. You get around it, and keep on

going."

I gave a small nod. "I guess."

"I meant it to make an impression on you. So that you don't think of lying as a casual thing," he said.

"I won't think of it that way," I said.

"Okay."

For a few moments then, we sat in silence. Quiet. I don't know why, but I did feel a bit better. Even though we hadn't really

talked about anything that I didn't already know.

"I did mean what I said to you this summer," he said. "That if something needed to be told, or said, to me, that you

would do it, or otherwise we'd have a problem. I needed to carry thru with what I told you then."

I plucked a handful of meadow grass in my hand. I nodded again. "I understand."

"I love you, Harlie," he said then. "I only want what's best for you."

I flicked my glance to him, and away from the grass in my hand. "I love you, too."

We regarded each other steadily for a couple of seconds, and then he said, "Are we okay? Or is there somethin' else

you want to say?"

"We're okay," I said.

He nodded, and then said, looking regretful, "As far as you driving Clare home today-like I said, I'm glad you were there. It bothers

me a little bit, that you'd think I'd get upset because you did that."

"I didn't really think that," I admitted. "That you'd get mad about it, I mean. I was just-in a mood."

He nodded. "Mmmm. Well, I'm glad."

We exchanged a last glance. It was one of a settling, of sorts. Of understanding.

"I think I'll head back inside," he said. "You about ready to come in?"

"In a few minutes," I told him.

"Okay." He got to his feet. "Don't be too much longer."

"I won't."

And then, before he headed back to the house, he ran his finger down my cheek. And smiled at me.

7

I was asked by someone else in the rescue group at school to take home a trio of rabbits. They'd been given for

Easter to some kids, and the kids were already bored of them. So, the parents were searching for a home to give them to.

Maxie Schroder was the one who approached me about it, between classes in the hallway.

"I'd keep them," she said, "Only my house is already bursting at the seams with the cats I've taken on."

"I still have the skunk," I reminded her. "I don't know where I'd keep the rabbits-"

"Well, can you ask your sister-in-law, anyway?" Maxie pleaded. "They're really cute."

"I'm sure they're cute," I agreed, a little drily. I didn't dispel Maxie's belief that it was Hannah who would either okay or

nix the rabbits coming home. Hannah probably wouldn't care one way or the other.

"I'll even let you take my hutch," Maxie said, obviously trying to sweeten the deal.

"I'll ask," I told her. "But I doubt it."

"Okay." Maxie unwrapped a piece of Dentyne and popped it into her mouth. "Want some?" she offered, holding the pack out.

"No, thanks," I said.

As we began walking down the hallway together, thru the throng of other kids, she said, "Hey, I'm having a party this weekend. At my house.

You and Guthrie can come if you want."

"Oh. Well, thanks," I said. "I'll tell Guthrie. When is it? Saturday?"

"Yeah. Around seven. My parents said everybody had to be out by midnight. We're just gonna play some music, and have a

wienie roast in the yard. No alcohol. You can bring a date. Guthrie will probably bring Kristin, right?"

"Yeah. Probably. If he comes," I said.

"Okay. Well, let me know by the end of the week if you're coming or not, so I can get a head count."

I said I would, and went to the office to wait for Ivy. She was late picking me up. I'd been waiting for about

thirty minutes by the time she arrived.

"Sorry," she told me. "It's been a crazy morning."

"No problem," I said, tossing my backpack in the seat before I climbed up into her truck.

"I've got to run to Sonora," she said. "Are you up for riding along?"

"Sure."

So, we set out for Sonora. As we rode, we talked. Well, mostly Ivy did the talking. She seemed to be in a really great mood.

I figured that a lot of that had to do with her walk with Crane the night before.

I realized that I didn't really know that much about Ivy, personally. I mean, about her family and where she came

from, and all of that.

So, I asked her a few things. She was an only child, which I always find sort of interesting, when I hear about it.

I mean, that's just so far out of the realm of my own life.

"My parents were older when I was born," she explained. "They didn't really expect one child, so when I came along, they

knew there wouldn't be any more."

Once we got to Sonora, we ended up at the stock yards there, meeting up with a friend of hers that worked there.

There were a lot of horses in one of the back corrals, and Ivy's friend said they were there in preparation for an auction

that was going to be held the next weekend.

Her friend, Leah, led the way to the horses, and we stood there for awhile, looking them over.

"That's the one I was thinking of," Leah said, pointing out a particular paint gelding.

"Well, I can try to look at him," Ivy said.

I'd figured out from their conversation that Leah wanted to purchase the horse, and wanted Ivy to see if he had

a clean bill of health.

I helped Ivy, and she managed to get into the corral and look the paint over with not much problem. He was friendly, though

it seemed to me that he was very thin.

A few of the horses, though, weren't so friendly. They were skittish, which I found out, when I tried to approach them.

Some of them were sad in appearance, too. Thin, ribs showing, their coats obviously in need of care. One of them really caught

my attention. He kept himself off to the side, and didn't show much interest in anything, it seemed to me.

"He's an old fellow," Ivy said, and I turned. I hadn't realized she was beside me.

"I thought so," I said. "How old, do you think?"

"Hard to say, exactly. Twenty, maybe."

"Some of these are old race horses," Leah said, joining us.

"They are?" I asked.

"From a personal collection of a retired jockey, that passed away a couple of years ago. Since his death, they've fallen into

the hands of one of his family members."

"He didn't do a very good job of caring for them," I said.

"No. You're right. He didn't," Leah said.

I tried to approach the old horse, but he was having none of it. Old though he was, he made his feelings known about

being approached. So, I backed off.

"Ready?" Ivy asked me.

I said I was, though I could have spent more time wandering thru the horses.

As we stood, talking to Leah, I asked her who the famous jockey had been.

"I can't remember the jockey's name right off," Leah said. "But, I do know that old horse you were looking at ran in the Kentucky Derby

in the late 60's."

"Did he really?" I asked, my interest definitely peaked. "What was his name? Do you know?"

"I think we have it inside, on the records," Leah said.

So we went inside the office, where Leah gave Ivy and I a bottle of pop each, and then she sifted thru

some paperwork.

"Dark Commander," she said, finally, looking up from her papers. "He ran in the Derby in 1968, it says here."

As they were still talking, I walked back out to the corrals, carrying my bottle of orange soda. I walked to the side of the

round pen where the horse, Dark Commander, was at. He still had his head down, and I stood as near as I could, reaching

my hand thru the fence slats.

"Hey, boy," I said. "I hear you were a really big deal, once upon a time."

The horse raised his head, and looked at me. There was something in his eyes. Something special.

I stayed there until Ivy came out to get me. We were saying goodbye to Leah, when I asked her, curiously,

"How much do you think he'll go for, at the auction?"

"The old guy?"

"Yeah," I said.

"It's hard to say, really. I wouldn't think much."

Much to me, and much to someone else, could very well be two different things.

"Probably a couple of hundred," Ivy suggested. "Right, Leah?"

"Maybe. The kill buyers will be out in droves that day."

Instantly, my hackles went up. Kill buyers? Ah, the legal glue factory suppliers. Grrr.

7


	38. Speak somehow

The rest of the afternoon, on the ride back from Sonoma, and then, while we were working at the office, I kept thinking.

Thinking about that horse. Even though he'd been worn down looking, there was something regal about him. I tried

to explain what I was thinking to Ivy.

"I think I understand," she said. "He's a proud old guy."

"Are you going over to the auction?" I asked.

"I don't know. I might."

"To maybe buy one of them?" I asked.

"No, definitely not. I don't have any spare cash for buying a horse right now. I wish I could."

"Oh," I said, and Ivy gave me a side-long glance.

"How about you? Are you thinking of buying a horse?"

"No," I said. "Well, I don't know," I hedged. "Maybe." I gave her a look. "I'd like to."

Ivy smiled. "You are so funny, Harlie."

"Funny, ha ha, or funny strange?" I asked.

"Funny ha ha, and you're pretty transparent, too," Ivy said.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Maybe not to everybody," Ivy said. "Don't worry. I'm sure you can still be mysterious to some people."

7

That evening I brought up the party at the supper table. Partly because that was the first chance I'd had

to talk to Guthrie. Hannah immediately showed interest.

"So, at Maxie's house?" she asked.

"Uh huh. Starting at seven," I said.

"She said for you to bring Kristin," I told Guthrie.

"Ummm," Guthrie said, chewing around his biscuit.

"Any alcohol planned?" Crane asked, from his position across the table.

"Nooo, Crane," I said, stretching out my words.

"Alright. Just a question," Crane said.

"Her parents are going to be around," I assured Crane.

"Some parents are cool with alcohol at parties," Evan spoke up, reaching for another biscuit.

"Evan," I said, pinning him with a 'hush-up' type of look.

"I'm just sayin-" Evan said, lifting a hand.

"Maxie said no alcohol," I stressed.

"I think it sounds like a good idea, for both of you to go," Hannah said, encouragingly.

"What time is this party over?" Brian asked.

"Midnight," I said.

I looked down the table toward Adam. He hadn't said anything. I could tell he was listening, though.

"Who will you go with?" Hannah went on, looking at me.

"I hadn't thought about it. Bill, probably," I said. "I'll ask him and see if he wants to go."

"Askin' a guy out, huh, shortcake?" Evan said, with a grin.

"What's wrong with that?" I asked, though I knew he was just kidding around.

"Yeah, Evan," Crane joined in. "It's the twentieth-century. Females are allowed to do the asking."

"It's not like that, anyway," I said, and added, without thinking, "Besides, it's just Bill. It doesn't matter."

There was a bit of silence, and I realized how it had sounded.

I shrugged. "Anyway-" I said, and waited for the conversation to switch to something else.

7

That night I was preparing for bed, coming out of the bathroom after having brushed my teeth, just as Adam was coming

up the stairs, carrying a sleeping Isaac.

I paused there, by the bathroom, and switched off the light.

"Hi," I said, softly, so as not to wake the baby.

"Hi."

As Adam paused, I leaned down closer to the baby's face.

"He's the most beautiful baby in the whole world," I said.

"He is pretty darn cute."

I ran my finger softly over Isaac's cheek.

"What do you think?" I asked him. "About Maxie's party on Saturday?"

Adam looked a little surprised at my question. "I think it sounds alright, if you and Guthrie want to go."

"Okay." I met his gaze. "There are three rabbits that need to be fostered. A kid got them for Easter last spring, and you know

how some kids are. They get bored with a pet, and then don't want them anymore."

Adam knew what was coming next. I could tell by the way his eyebrows went up a notch or two.

"Maxie has a bunch of cats already, and she said she'd let me have the hutch she uses, if I'd take the rabbits on," I went on.

Adam sighed. "Harlie," he said, in sort of a drawn-out way.

"I know. But, rabbits aren't that much trouble, really," I said.

"Three rabbits can easily become twenty rabbits," Adam said. "Which means more hutches needed, and less chance of

rehoming."

"Yes," I agreed. "Maybe we could separate them, though. Put up a partition, or something?"

"There comes a time, when limits have to be set," Adam said.

"Okay," I said. I'd figured it had been a long shot, anyway, asking him about the rabbits. I could tell Maxie that I had at least tried.

Adam, again, looked a bit surprised. "That's it?" he asked, raising another eyebrow. "No pleading? No arguments?"

"Nope," I said, and then I smiled at him. A genuine smile.

Adam's return smile was just as genuine. Warm.

I dropped a very light kiss on Isaac's forehead.

"Goodnight," I said, and headed towards my own bedroom doorway.

"Sleep good," he said.

7

The school newspaper had been printed by the next day, and I began to get noticed due to my article about

controlling the pet population. Miss McQueeny was complimentary about it, and asked me to stay after class so she could talk to

me.

"I think the local newspaper is interested in running the story," she told me.

For a moment I was startled into silence. "Really?" I asked.

"Really," she affirmed.

"How did they know about it?" I asked.

"I showed it to my friend there."

"You did?"

"It was good enough, so I did."

"That's amazing," I said, feeling excited.

"It should be in next week's edition. They'd like a few more photos to go with it."

"Oh. Like what?"

"You think about it, and snap some pictures, and drop them off at the office. I'm sure you'll choose some good

ones." She stood up, from her spot behind the desk. "I have a meeting to get to."

"Okay," I said. "Thanks a lot."

"Keep up the good work," Miss McQueeny said, and I could tell her mind was already gone on to something else.

7

At lunch, the usual group of us were sitting together. I was biting into my ham sandwich, when I felt Guthrie nudge me,

and then he sat down beside me.

"Hey, I was thinkin', that maybe Kenny could come to Maxie's party on Saturday," he said, in a low tone, so he wouldn't be

overheard.

"I think Maxie would be okay with that," I said.

"Yeah. Well, I was thinkin' it would be good."

I sensed there was more to it than that. I know Guthrie well.

"And?" I asked. "What else?"

"Maybe he could go with you," Guthrie said.

I gave Guthrie a side-long look, and paused in my eating. The talking of the others was going on around us, but I

still lowered my voice.

"Huh?"

"You know. Go with you."

"You mean-like a date?" I asked.

"Not like a date, exactly," Guthrie said.

"I was going to ask Bill," I reminded him.

"Yeah. But, it's not like you really care about that. You said so last night at supper."

I tried to remember what it was that I'd said, exactly. Oh, yeah. Something about it being Bill, so it didn't matter. What I'd meant

by that was that Bill wasn't Eddie.

"Why can't Kenny just come along?" I pointed out, still quietly. I could see Kenny sitting in a spot down the long table, talking

to Lonnie. "I mean, like with us as a group? Why does it have to be with me, like a date?"

"I just think it would be nice if you asked him to go," Guthrie said. "Some of the kids are still givin' him a rough time."

"Who?"

"Some of the guys-" Guthrie sort of gave a look around. "Anyway, will ya ask him?"

"I guess so," I said.

"Well, try to act a little more enthusiastic when you do it, huh?" Guthrie said. "He'll get the idea that you don't

really wanna go with him."

"Go eat your lunch," I told him, and went back to eating my own, and talking to Lori.

7

Since Ivy was coming to get me after the next hour of class, I caught Kenny as he was throwing away his lunch

trash.

"Hi," I greeted him.

"Hi, Harlie," he said. "You look real nice today."

Even though I didn't think it was necessarily true, and that Kenny was just being 'smooth', it's never a bad thing

for a girl to hear.

"Thanks."

"I like that color on you," he went on, eyeing my yellow blouse.

"Thanks," I said, again. "So, how is your day going?"

"Oh, you know," he said, sounding vague. "It's goin'."

"You know Maxie Schroder, right?" I asked.

"Yeah. Sure."

"She's having a party Saturday night at her house. A hot dog roast. I was wondering if you'd want to go."

I'd surprised Kenny. I saw that. His eyes widened a little.

"Really?" he asked, sounding glad.

"Yeah."

"You mean with you?" he specified.

"Well," I hesitated. "Yeah. I mean, there's a whole group of people going-"

"That'd be great, Har," he said, slipping and calling me by the nickname that Guthrie calls me. He was smiling really big now, too.

"Okay." I hesitated again. "There's no alcohol, Maxie said-" I didn't think Kenny was still drinking, but I for sure wanted him

to be on his best behavior. If he was still drinking, that is.

"Right," he said. He gave me an intense look, serious now. "I'm not drinkin' anymore, Harlie. I swear."

"Okay. Well, I just wanted to let you know-" I said, feeling a little awkward.

"You want me to come pick you up?" he offered. "What time?"

"We can go with Guthrie and Kristin," I said.

"Sure. If that's what you want," Kenny said, agreeably.

7

That afternoon, Ivy and I were kept busy at the office. We had three people bringing in their dogs to have

their nails clipped, and one of them also needed shots. I did two of the dog's nail clipping myself, and after that

I was busy sweeping out the back. Ivy paid me, too, and I mentally added the amount to what I had at home.

When Ivy dropped me off at home, I paused, one foot on the ground, to look over at her.

"Want to come in?" I offered.

"I better not," she said, but I could tell that she wanted to.

"You should, though," I encouraged.

"Maybe another day," she said.

I got out, and waved as I went up the front steps.

Inside, I laid down my stuff, like I always do, and went to get a snack in the kitchen. Instead of finding Hannah, or

at least somebody in there, as was usual, it was instead empty. Quiet. I went over and touched the coffee pot. Still warm.

Adam wasn't too far.

7

I found Hannah out back, sitting in one of the lawn chairs, while Isaac sat and played with toys on a blanket on the grass.

"Hi," I said, coming up behind her.

"Oh, gosh!" Hannah said, jumping a little. "You startled me, Harlie!"

"Sorry."

"How was your day?" she asked, looking up at me and shading her eyes from the sun.

"It was okay. Good." I sat down on the blanket beside Isaac, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm just sitting here, taking a little break," she said.

"Is there something you need help with?" I asked.

"Oh, sweetie, there's always something around here that I need help with," Hannah said, with a little sigh. Then she

smiled at me. "Don't mind me. I'm just a little behind with things."

"What about supper?" I asked. I hadn't seen any supper preparations when I'd been inside.

"Brian took pity on me. He's the chef tonight. I don't know what he's got in mind, though," Hannah said.

"Anybody else coming for supper?" I asked. It seemed like we always had an extra person or so lately at supper.

"Nancy is, I think."

"Where's Clare?" I asked.

"She's upstairs, taking a nap. She's doing a lot better, today. I think the meds are helping."

"That's good." I thought for a minute. I had a sort of an idea that I wanted to talk over with Brian.

I was still sitting there with Hannah, when Brian appeared from the pasture, on one of the four-wheelers.

"There you are," Hannah told him, as he walked up. "I was hoping you weren't going to stand me up for dinner."

"Never," Brian said, with a smile at Hannah. "Hey, peach," he greeted me.

"Hi," I said, looking up from where I sat on the blanket.

"So, what's on the menu for tonight?" Hannah asked him, then.

"I'm not even sure yet," Brian said. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

"I don't care what it is," Hannah said. "As long as I don't have to fix it."

She stood up. "I'll go get started on the laundry," she said.

"Want me to take Isaac?" I offered.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "Don't you have homework you want to do?"

"I can do it after supper. I'll watch him for you. Besides, I want to talk to Brian," I said.

"Oh, boy," Brian said, in response to that, with a low whistle. "What's that about?"

I could tell he was joking with me, and I just picked Isaac up, and followed them inside. Hannah went on her way, downstairs to the

basement, and Brian to the kitchen. I installed Isaac in his walker, and then began setting the table, as Brian began rummaging

thru the cabinets, and the freezer.

"So?" I asked him, as I walked around the table, laying down plates at each chair. "Chili? Or spaghetti?"

"Cheeseburgers," he said.

"Yum."

"How about you slice up some tomatoes and onions for me?" he said.

"Okay." I washed my hands at the sink, and began getting out the vegetables, clearing one end of the table to work at.

Brian began thawing out hamburger in the microwave, and setting up the griddle.

I began slicing the tomatoes. "Yesterday, I went with Ivy to Sonoma," I began the conversation. "There's gonna be an

horse auction this weekend. They already have a lot of horses in."

"Not much boarding space there, is there?" he asked.

"Not really. A few round pens. Some sheds."

He went on, gathering up cheese, and warming up the griddle.

"Some of these horses are from a jockey's own herd," I went on. "Like a famous guy."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. And these horses, some of them, were really top of the line. As in, the Kentucky Derby," I finished, pausing

for effect, and waiting for him to be impressed.

"No kidding?"

"Uh huh."

The microwave was dinging, and Brian went to take the hamburger meat out. As he began making the meat into

patties, I kept slicing the vegetables.

"I was wondering if we could take a ride over there," I said casually.

"A ride where?" he asked. He flicked a glance over at me. "To Sonoma, you mean?"

"Yeah."

"What for?" he asked.

"There's a horse I'd like you to look at."

Brian began putting patties on the griddle, still glancing over at me in between doing that. "And why is that?" he asked.

"Because. I'm interested in him. The horse."

"Uh huh," he said.

"He ran in the Kentucky Derby, in 1968. His name is Dark Commander. And, he's older, over twenty for sure, but you

can tell when you look at him that he really was something special. He's-"

Brian held up the hand that held the spatula to halt my words. "Whoa, whoa," he said. "Are you sayin' that you

wanna buy this horse, Harlie?"

"I don't know," I said. Then, I said, "I think maybe so, yeah."

"Why?"

"Well-because there's something about him. It's like he spoke to me," I tried to explain.

Brian took the spatula and pressed the hamburger patties down flat. "Doesn't every animal 'speak' to you?" he countered. "There's

nothing so unusual about that, is there?"

"Don't tease me, Bri. I'm serious," I said. pausing in my slicing to twist in my chair and look at him.

"I can see that," he said.

I kept watching him, and he turned the burner under the hamburgers on, and then washed his hands at the sink.

Drying them, he turned to lean against the counter, looking at me.

"Okay. All joking aside, what are you thinkin'?" he asked. "You have two horses now, of your own. Plus, any of the

others around here that you want to ride anytime."

"Yeah. But, that's not what this is about," I said.

"Well, what is it about, exactly?" he countered.

"I just-have a feeling about him," I said.

"You're gonna have to do better at explaining than that," he said.

"It's sad, to see a horse that was such a big deal, reduced to being sold at an auction like this. I mean, he was a champion, Bri! A

race horse of the highest quality! And now the kill buyers are gonna be out after him."

"Just because they're there doesn't mean that's where he'll end up," Brian pointed out. "Maybe some nice family will buy

him for their kid to ride around."

I didn't think that the old horse was really in any condition to be ridden by a kid anytime soon. Not, at least, until he'd had

some necessary looking after. And possibly some medical attention, I wasn't sure.

I didn't say that, though. I wanted to get Brian to Sonoma first.

"Maybe that would happen," I said. "But, then again, maybe some nice family won't buy him. That leaves the kill buyers."

Brian stood there, finishing drying his hands, and then he tossed the dishtowel onto the counter.

"So your plans are to buy this old guy, bring him home, and then what?" Brian asked. "Retire him to pasture?"

"I don't know. Maybe," I said.

"Well-" he began, and then his eyebrows went up, and his eyes widened. "You don't mean that you're thinkin' of something

else with him? As in-racing him?"

I gave a small shrug, and Brian said, "Harlie, you've got to be kidding me."

"I didn't say that it would happen. There's nowhere around here to race," I pointed out. "I just-" I hesitated. "Will you ride over

there with me, Bri? To look at him?"

Brian gave me a long, long look. Isaac breezed in between us in his walker.

"Please?" I asked.

The hamburgers were beginning to sizzle, and Brian turned around, to flip them. When he'd done that, he looked at me again.

"We can run over there, and take a look," he said.

I gave him a glowing smile. "Thank you, thank you!" I said.

"To take a look," Brian specified. "If I don't think you should spend your money on him, I'll tell you so. Fair enough?"

"Yes," I agreed. "Fair enough."

7


	39. Conversing

I ate two of Brian's cheeseburgers. I had dishwashing duty, along with Guthrie, who complained the whole time we

were washing and drying.

"This is crazy," he said. "All these dishes we use around here. We oughta be using paper plates. Save some time."

"Did you talk to Kristin about Maxie's party?" I asked him. I figured the sooner I got Guthrie off the topic of the

immense amount of dishes our family went thru, the better.

"Yeah. She says it sounds like fun."

"I hope we all have fun," I said.

"Kenny was really stoked about you askin' him," Guthrie said, putting the last of the dried silverware into the drawer.

I hesitated, looking at Guthrie, as I let the water out of the sink. "I mostly did it as a favor to you," I said.

"You always had fun with Kenny," Guthrie reminded me. "I mean, you know, before-"

Before, obviously, all the trouble last summer, when I'd gone from liking Kenny to nearly detesting him.

Nancy and Evan came thru to the kitchen, then, and Guthrie and I paused our conversation to look at them.

"Where you two goin'?" Guthrie asked.

"We're going up to the cabin," Nancy said, hooking her arm thru Evan's.

"See you later," I said.

"We'll be back before dark," Evan said.

"What you wanna be back before dark for?" Guthrie said, with a grin and a suggestive raise of his eyebrows.

"Watch yourself, Guthrie," Nancy warned him, and gave Guthrie's hair a tug on her way out the back door.

"Dang it," Guthrie said, rubbing his head where Nancy had pulled it. "That hurt!" he said, going to the door, and opening

the screen, and hollering out after Nancy and Evan.

"You deserved it!" I heard Nancy holler back.

Guthrie let the door flap shut again, and came back in, still rubbing his head.

"Darn that Nancy," he grumbled.

At my snicker, he demanded, "What?"

"You're gonna have to get used to Nancy being around," I told him. "You're used to Clare, and Hannah. Nancy's not like them. She's

more-" I hesitated, thinking.

"I know, I know," Guthrie said.

I draped the dish towel over the faucet. "You like her, though, don't you?" I asked, suddenly feeling worried.

"Yeah, of course I like her," Guthrie said.

When Guthrie and I went into the living room, we both got out our homework. Crane had disappeared somewhere,

so it was just Clare and Brian, and Adam and Hannah sitting in there.

Hannah asked if Maxie's party was still on for Saturday, and when I said that it was, she asked if I had talked to

Bill about coming.

I was sitting on the floor, my homework spread out in front of me, and I looked up at Hannah, from where she

sat beside Adam just across from me.

"I'm actually not going to ask Bill," I said.

"Oh?" Hannah asked, looking puzzled.

"Yeah."

"Did you have an argument with Bill?" Hannah asked now.

By now, everybody was listening, and paying attention. Well, maybe not Clare and Brian so much. They were sitting on the

second couch, while Clare held Isaac, feeding him his bottle. But Hannah was, and Adam, too. Adam had one foot propped

on his opposite knee, and was watching me, and listening.

"No. It's nothing like that," I said. I glanced towards Guthrie. "I'm going with Kenny, instead."

"Oh," Hannah said, again.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, that's good," Hannah said. "If that's what you want to do, I mean."

I nodded, and Hannah went on. Relentless.

"It is what you want to do, right?" she asked me.

"Sure," I said. Adam was studying me, and I gave him a slight smile.

"Are you thinking about beginning to date Kenny again?" Hannah asked. Now, I could quite plainly see the worry lines

on Hannah's forehead. I wasn't sure just the exact reason they were there.

"I don't know," I said. And then, honestly, I said, "I haven't really thought about it."

"I don't think it's a good idea for you to rush into anything," Hannah said.

"I'm not," I assured her. I looked towards Guthrie again. "It's just-Guthrie and I thought it would be nice if

Kenny got to come to the party. Some of the other kids are giving him a hard time."

"Oh," Hannah said. "That's too bad." She looked towards Adam.

"Kenny's going to have to expect some of that to happen," Brian spoke up.

"Those guys are bein' bastards, Brian," Guthrie protested.

"I'm not sayin' they're not," Brian said, reaching to take Isaac from Clare, as she got up to go to the kitchen. "But it's not

bein' realistic to expect that he won't get crap from somebody about what he did."

"Kenny paid his dues," Guthrie insisted.

"I know he did," Brian agreed. "You're preachin' to the choir here, Guth. I'm on Kenny's side in this thing. I'm just pointin' out

that there's always goin' to be an asshole somewhere, tryin' to shake things up."

"I guess," Guthrie said, with a sigh.

After that, nobody said anything more about the party. Brian went to make some popcorn, and Adam took Isaac up to bed.

By the time they were both back in the living room again, Evan and Nancy had returned. And then, the talk turned

to the wedding, and the reception. And what food was to be served, and all of that.

7

I did some rummaging around for pictures to use for the newspaper story. I thought a picture of Jethro Bodine, and Warrior, since

they'd both been rescue dogs. Then I thought I had a couple of pictures of the dogs and the conditions up at the place where all

Jethro and all those other dogs had been held. That would show what happened when some dogs got a good home, and then the

other side of it, where dogs were held in terrible conditions.

I sorted thru the shoeboxes full of pictures, and didn't find the photos, though. I shoved the boxes back into the

cabinet.

It was while I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed, that Adam came to stand in the doorway of the bathroom.

"Hey," I said, looking at his reflection in the mirror, as I continued brushing my teeth.

"Hey," he answered.

"I have a question for you," Adam said.

I spit the toothpaste out, and began filing a Dixie cup with water. "Okay," I said, turning to look at him, as I took a sip of the water

and then rinsed out my mouth.

"This date with Kenny for Saturday's party?" he began. "I guess I'm wondering if it's somethin' that you really want to do?"

I crumpled the Dixie cup, and threw it into the bathroom trash.

I gave a light shrug. "It's okay," I said, not really sure what he was getting at.

"Really?" he asked. "Because I sort of get the impression that it's something you're not thrilled about."

I smiled at him a little. "What? Do you have super-sonic tuning ability into my head or something?"

"I don't know about that. More of an-" he hesitated, "Instinct. Older brother instinct."

At that moment, I was good of full feelings. About the upcoming party. About my article coming out in the newspaper. About

convincing Brian to go to Sonora with me. And, also, about Adam himself. It felt good to be back on solid ground with him

again.

I stepped forward, and wrapped my arms around his waist, looking up into his face.

"More than an older brother," I corrected. "You've always been more than that. Way more."

Adam tightened his arm that he'd wrapped around my shoulders. "Thank you, sugar."

"You're welcome."

"So," he said, squeezing my shoulders again. "What about this date?"

"It's not really a date," I said.

"Uh huh."

"It's okay, Adam. You don't have to worry."

"Well, that's like breathing. It's part of the package. I'm suspecting that Guthrie had somethin' to do with this. Would

I be right about that?'

I met his eyes. "Guthrie's not forcing me into anything."

"He'd best not be," Adam said. "If this isn't somethin' that you really want to do, then I'll have a hard word or two

with Guthrie."

"No, Adam, don't do that," I protested. "Kenny's okay. And, he is having sort of a rough time, getting back into the

routine at school with the kids."

"And I'm sorry for him about that," Adam said. "But, that doesn't mean that you're responsible for makin' him feel better."

"I know. It's not like that. It's just a party," I said.

Adam looked unconvinced. Somber. As though he was thinking over what I'd said.

"Alright," he said, finally. "But, you remember somethin'. You make your own choices. You don't let yourself be talked into

anything. I don't care who it is that's doin' the talking."

"I'll remember," I told him.

"Okay." He kissed the top of my head. "Have a good sleep."

"You, too," I said.

7

The next morning at breakfast, I finished eating, and gathered up my stuff for school. While I was putting things into my

backpack, Crane came thru from the kitchen, a glass of orange juice in his hand. He went to the desk, and began rifling thru

the papers there.

I put my backpack over one shoulder and went over to the desk. "Hi."

"Hi, peanut," Crane said, without looking up from what he was doing.

"Could I borrow your camera?" I asked him.

"Yeah. You can borrow it," he said. "Planning to take some pictures, huh?"

"I'm thinking of some," I said.

"What of?" he asked me, looking up and taking a drink of his juice.

"I haven't decided on all of them yet. They're to go with my article that I wrote."

"Yeah. The one on the spay and neuter program, right?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Why don't you ask your journalism teacher what she thinks you should take photos of?" he asked.

I smiled a little, and he smiled back. "What?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"The pictures aren't for the school newspaper. What I wrote for school came out already yesterday."

I turned at noise to see Adam and Hannah walking into the room, as well.

"So what're the pictures for, then?" Crane asked me.

"Well, actually," I said, "Miss McQueeney submitted my article to the newspaper. It's supposed to be in this week's

edition. Or maybe next week's, depending on when I get the pictures done."

Crane was looking at me, his face lined with surprise. "Newspaper?" he asked, pausing dramatically. "As in the 'Calaveras Enterprise'

newspaper?"

I smiled again. I couldn't help it. I could tell Crane was really, really glad.

"Yeah. That one," I said.

"Why are we just now hearing about this?" Crane demanded, reaching out and pulling me closer, and hugging me.

"Did you hear that?" Crane went on, talking over the top of my head, talking to Adam and Hannah. "We have a published author

in our midst!"

Crane passed me off to Hannah, who gave me a hard hug. "Sweetie, this is fantastic!" she said.

"No kidding," Adam said, and took over hugging me when Hannah was finished. "Did you not think to tell

us, Harlie Marie?"

"I was gonna tell you all," I defended myself. "Besides, it may fall thru, or something, and not even happen at all."

"No way," Crane said. "They recognize talent when they read it."

"We need to celebrate," Hannah said.

I just sort of stood there, feeling proud, and also happy that they were all so happy.

"We'll have a special supper," Hannah said. "With your favorite things. How is that?"

"You don't have to do that," I said.

"We want to do it," Hannah said. She looked as though she was thinking. "How about Friday night?"

"Okay," I said.

Crane asked me a few more questions then, about the pictures I needed to take. He got the Nikon out of the desk drawer

and handed it to me, and then searched the bag to see if there was extra film.

By now, Guthrie was coming along, eating a biscuit smothered with jelly, and telling me to hurry up, or we'd be late.

Adam, as was his custom, followed us out onto the front porch to tell us goodbye, and to have a good day at school.

"Hey, you," he said, as I was starting down the front steps of the porch. I paused to look back up at him, from where I stood, three

steps down.

"I'm proud of you. That's great, about your article."

"Thanks," I said.

He smiled at me. "Have a great day, okay?"

"You, too," I said, and went across the yard to get into my side of Guthrie's truck.

As Guthrie and I were driving down our long driveway, I looked in the side view mirror, and I could still see Adam there.

Standing and watching us go.

7

When I got home that afternoon, it was a bit earlier than usual. Ivy was going to see her parents, she said. Three hours away, and she

was going to spend the night, as well.

"Do you want me to go by the office tomorrow at the regular time?" I asked her. "To check on the horses? And the Cramer's dog is

still there, right?"

"That would be great," she said. "But, what about not being able to drive?"

"I can ask somebody at home to pick me up at school and take me to the office," I told her.

"Alright. If you're sure, then that would be great," she told me.

Crane came walking out of one of the side buildings, headed our direction. I didn't miss Ivy's quick intake of breath,

or the way she ran her fingers unconsciously thru her hair at his approach.

"See you," I told her, and got out, shutting my door.

"See you, Harlie," she said.

I went on up the stairs and inside the house, while Crane stood beside her truck, talking to Ivy thru the open

truck window.

I went on inside the house, and then paused there, looking out thru the screen at the two of them. I didn't

even hear Clare come up from behind me, until she was already there, at my elbow.

"They look good together, don't they?" she said quietly, and I jumped a little.

"I didn't hear you come up," I told her. And then, looking back out again, I agreed, "Yeah. They do."

"I wonder what Crane's thinking," I mused. "I mean, if he's broken up with Cindy, or what."

"I don't know," Clare said. "Crane has to be one of the most reserved people I've ever known. He keeps his thoughts

close, doesn't he?"

"Mostly," I agreed. "It's just-Ivy really likes him. I mean she likes likes him."

"What's all the gossip about?" said a voice from behind us, and both Clare and I turned to look.

Brian looked out the screen just as we'd been doing a moment before.

"We're not gossiping," Clare corrected him. "Just wondering about your brother."

"Hmm," Brian said, as he watched for another moment or so himself, and then he turned to head back towards the

kitchen. "So, who's gonna help me get supper figured out?" he asked, as he walked ahead of us.

"You're cooking again tonight?" I asked, and Brian turned, looking insulted.

"How's that?" he asked, warningly.

"I mean, 'You're cooking again tonight?'" I said, interjecting dramatic excitement and happiness into my voice, and Clare laughed.

"Good save, toots," she told me.

7


	40. Misplaced

It seemed as though things were at a fast-rush the next couple of days. With school, and homework, and going into the vet office,

plus coming home and doing some small things to help Hannah get ready for the wedding, it was crazy busy.

There was only two days left in the school week, and on Thursday morning, I was stuffing things into my backpack,

and, since Brian hadn't said anything about going to Sonoma, I went to the barn to find him.

He was, instead, in the feed shed, lifting and restacking bags of horse feed, and range cubes.

"Leavin' for school?" he asked me, setting another bag on the top of the stack.

"Yeah. I was wondering-do you think we could go over to the sale barn today, maybe?"

"Today?" he asked, picking up another bag.

"I know you're busy, but the sale's Saturday," I reminded him.

Brian set the bag on the stack, and then paused, turning to look at me. "I can probably run over there after supper."

"I was thinking, maybe, that you could pick me up at Ivy's around four, and we could go then," I said.

"You were thinkin' that, huh?" Brian asked, drily.

"I just thought it might save some time."

"I'm tied up this afternoon. After supper is when I'm able to go, peach," he said.

He sounded faintly irritated, and so I said quickly, "Oh. Okay, then. After supper. Thanks."

Brian regarded me seriously for a long moment, and then said, "This is just a look-see, remember."

I could hear the warning in his tone, and I said, "I know."

7

I had cajoled Evan to pick me up at school that day and take me to the vet office. He'd agreed, and he was waiting

right outside the school when I came out. He was listening to the radio and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the

music. I could hear the sounds of Johnny Cash's 'One Piece at a Time' song reverberating as I walked up to his truck.

I opened the door, and tossed my backpack into the middle of the seat. "Hi," I said.

"Hey."

Once I was in, he gave a look in the rearview mirror and then pulled out, reaching over to turn the radio down

just a notch.

"When are you goin' to be able to drive again?" he asked me, as he took the road out of Angels Camp towards Murphys.

"Saturday."

"Okay."

"Thanks for coming to pick me up," I said.

"It's alright."

"How's the cabin coming along?" I asked. It had been several days since I'd been up there.

"It's lookin' good."

Once we were at the vet office, I got out and said, "Can I leave my backpack and stuff in here?"

"Yeah. That's fine," Evan said. "I'll come back at four and pick you up."

"Okay. See you later," I said, and shut the truck door.

I went up to the front door of the office, and began to reach down to get the key that is kept under the basset hound statue.

It wasn't there, though, and I stood back up, looking at the front door. I turned the doorknob, just out of curiousity, and it

opened. I opened it just a bit, and then stood there, thinking. And feeling a little nervous.

"What's wrong?" I heard Evan calling to me. I looked over and he was parked there, talking to me thru his

open truck window.

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Huh?" he hollered.

I walked back over to where he was parked, the motor idling. "The key's gone," I said.

"The front door key?"

"Yeah. And it's already open."

"What?" Evan asked, looking surprised. "It's unlocked?"

"Yeah."

"Well, maybe Ivy's in there," he suggested. "Her truck could be parked around back."

"No. She went to see her parents. She left yesterday afternoon."

"Maybe she didn't go."

"She did," I insisted.

"Hmm," he said, looking towards the office. I was feeling nervous, and I kept looking at Evan. I guess he could

tell, because he said, "Let me park, and we'll take a look."

"Okay," I said, glad that he was going to come inside with me.

Evan parked the truck and shut off the motor. He got out and we walked up to the office together. Once at the front

door, I started to push it open, but Evan put a hand out.

"Hold on," he told me, and motioned me to step back, so he could go inside ahead of me. I felt my heart pounding a bit

harder than normal. Evan pushed the door open just slightly more, with just his fingertips. He stepped into the office, and I came

behind him.

The office looked like usual, at least it seemed so.

"Anything out of order?" Evan asked, his voice really low.

"No. Everything looks like normal," I said.

Evan stepped over to the swinging doors that led to the back of the building. He pushed them open and stood, looking

towards the back. I poked my head around his arm, and then said, "Maybe Ivy just forgot to lock up or something."

"Yeah. Maybe," Evan said.

"Let's go check back here," I said, and Evan began walking to the back. There was a clattering and Evan stopped so

quickly that I nearly rammed into his back.

"What-" I began, really quietly.

Evan put his finger to his lips, and I got silent.

"Stay here," Evan said, just barely over a whisper.

I shook my head vehemently at him in protest. My head filled with images of thieves and/or vandals intent on

stealing from Ivy, and causing harm to Evan. I wasn't about to stay behind.

He kept on, walking stealthily, and I grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt in my hand. He didn't jerk loose, and so I followed,

staying just behind him.

Looking towards the back, over Evan's right shoulder, I couldn't see anything right off that could have caused the

noise. It looked as though the back doors were still closed.

There was a flurry of movement charging right at us, and my heart nearly burst out of my chest before I realized it was

the dog that belonged to the Cramer family. A poodle named Louise.

"Shit," I heard Evan mutter.

I leaned down to pet Louise, and then scooped her up into my arms. "This is Louise," I told Evan. "She belongs to the Cramer's."

"It must have been her that made the noise," I went on. "I don't know how she got out of her kennel, though."

I walked around Evan and went to where the huge wire kennel was that Louise had been in. It's fixed with a little runway and

everything, so the dog is contained, but yet can walk around. Sort of like a dog's play pen area.

The door to it was open, though. Unlatched. The food and water dishes were both empty.

"Look," I said. "It's unlatched."

Evan came over to look, and I said, "I know Ivy put Louise in here before she left yesterday afternoon, because

I saw her do it."

"She must not have latched it right," Evan said. "Or maybe the dog jumped on it and it came open."

"She couldn't have," I argued. "It's sturdy."

"Well, I don't know, then," he said. "I'll go take a look around back."

"Okay," I said, and went to refill the dishes with dog food and fresh water. Louise tagged after me the whole time,

making a whimpering sound. Finally, I picked her back up again, and walked outside. Evan was bent over, looking at the

big sliding latch on the door.

"What?" I asked, curious.

"I'm just lookin' to see if it's been messed with," Evan said.

"You mean broken into?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"It hasn't though, right?" I said, leaning over to look, too.

"Doesn't look like it," Evan said, standing up straight again.

"I think it's just maybe-what I said before. That Ivy forgot to lock up or something," I said. "Maybe she was in a hurry to leave

and wasn't being real careful."

"I thought you said she left town right after she dropped you off at home yesterday," Evan reminded me. "You were with her

when she left the office. Wouldn't you have noticed if she hadn't locked the door?"

He had a point. I thought back to the previous afternoon. Even though I hadn't been staring at Ivy or anything like that, I

was pretty sure she'd turned the lock before she pulled the door shut.

"Yeah," I said. "You're right." I nibbled at my bottom lip. "So, what do you think, then?"

"I don't know. It could be nothin'."

I put Louise down so she could go pee, and then picked her back up to carry her back inside. Evan left the back doors open

so the sunlight and air could come in.

"So, what all do you have to do?" he asked me.

"Take care of Louise, and the horses out in the barn. Check messages, stuff like that."

"Okay," he said. Once inside, I put Louise down and went to change out the potty pads in the dog run. I was

heading to the front to check the messages on the answering machine, when I saw something strange. I walked over to

the wall where the medicines were kept. There was a bottle shattered on the floor, the liquid leaked out.

"Evan," I said. "Comere."

"What?" he asked, from the other side of the building, where he was walking around.

"Comere," I insisted.

When Evan had walked over to me, I pointed to the floor and said, "Look."

"What am I lookin' at, exactly?" Evan asked. "A broken bottle?"

"How did it get broken?" I said. "That's what I mean."

I reached down and picked up the biggest piece of glass, that still had the name of the medication where it could be read.

"It's Dasuquin," I said.

"So?"

"Letter D. The meds are alphabetical. I did it myself. See, the D's are up here," I said, and pointed up to the second shelf from

the top.

"Again. So?" Evan persisted.

"How would it have gotten knocked off? It's not like Louise could have done it. It's too high for that."

I watched Evan's face, as he thought that over. Considered.

"What are you sayin' then?" he asked me.

"A person had to have done it. When they were in a hurry," I said.

"We don't know that," Evan cautioned.

I sighed. "You think I'm totally crazy, right? That I'm imagining things?"

"I didn't say that. Let me think a minute."

I went to get a broom and dust pan, and just as I was ready to begin sweeping up the mess, Evan said,

"Hold up a minute on that."

"Why?" I demanded, pausing.

"I'm thinkin' we should have somebody come over and take a look around," he said.

"You mean like the police?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah. The sheriff."

"You really think so?" I asked him.

"Yeah. I do."

"Should I go call?" I asked, leaning the broom against the wall.

"I'll do it."

"I'll go on out and tend the horses then," I said. "In case they want to talk to me when they get here."

"Don't do that yet," Evan said. "I think maybe you should wait until after they come."

"Okay," I said, realizing the Evan thought we shouldn't disturb anything more around the property than we had

already.

Evan and I went to the office, Louise tagging along with us. Evan paused, looking thoughtful.

"I'm gonna go over to Marie's and call," he said. "And not touch the phone here."

I thought that was carrying things a bit too far. But, I didn't argue with him.

I stepped outside on the sidewalk, holding Louise, while Evan walked the short distance to the café. While he was gone, I lifted

the basset hound statue again, running my fingers under it. And, while there hadn't been a key in the customary spot, it was there

after all, only in a different spot. I felt it with my fingertips, but I didn't take it out. I lowered the statue back down over it.

I could feel my nerves jumping like crazy.

When I saw Evan coming back down the sidewalk, I went to meet him halfway.

"Is somebody coming?" I asked.

"Yeah. They're sending somebody over."

"Evan, the key is there," I said. "Under the dog statue."

"I thought it wasn't."

"It wasn't, in the regular spot. But, it's there. Pushed over. It's never like that."

"We'll see what the sheriff says," Evan said, sounding calm.

He backed his truck up, and lowered the tail gate. We sat there, he and I, and Louise, for what seemed like

forever.

"Won't they miss you at home?" I asked him, after some time had gone by. "And wonder where you're at?"

"I called the house, too."

"Did you tell them what was going on?" I asked.

"Yeah."

As we sat there, watching people drive by, some of them waving at us, another thought occurred to me.

"If somebody was here, looking thru the meds, so they could steal some of them, then I might be able to tell if

a bunch of the bottles are missing," I said. I edged myself down off the truck tail gate. "I'm gonna go look and see."

"Just sit tight," Evan said.

"I'm just going to take a quick look-" I began.

"Harlie. Just wait," he ordered.

I sighed, but hiked myself back up to sit on the tail gate.

I think it was nearly an hour later when a deputy's truck finally arrived.

7


	41. Officer Watson, Brett

I'd thought maybe I would recognize the deputy that came, from earlier that previous summer. We'd seen several thru the summer, what with

everything that went on during that time.

There were two of them in the truck that arrived. And I didn't. Recognize them. The driver was young, in his 20's, maybe. The other

man was older, 40ish. Evan and I both stood up, as they came walking to us.

They shook hands with Evan, and said hello to me. Well, the younger one said hello to me. The older man was much more

businesslike. He seemed irritable.

He immediately began asking questions, the first of which was, "And what's your name?"

"McFadden," I said first, and then realizing that sounded stupid, I added, "Harlie." Still sounding stupid.

"And you?" he asked Evan.

"Evan McFadden," Evan said, and the deputy wrote that down.

"And what is it that you're doing here now?" he asked.

I couldn't help it. He was making me feel as though I'd one something wrong.

"I work for Ivy Ramsey. The vet," I explained.

"Are you not still in school?" he asked, looking up from his writing.

I explained how I was in the work study program, and that's why I happened to be here at this time of the day.

He asked where Ivy was at, and I told him she'd gone to visit relatives. He asked when she'd left, and when she

was due to return.

When I told him about the key under the statue being in a different place, he frowned, as if I'd personally insulted him.

"Why is a key being left there, where anyone can utilize it?" he pointed out.

I knew he had somewhat of a point. He did. Still, I attempted to explain, "It's always been that way-I mean, that's where

Doc G always left the extra key-"

"And Doc G?" he interrupted. "That's who?"

"Doc G was the vet here for years," Evan spoke up. "He died last year."

As always, the mention of Doc G, in that way, gave me a moment or so of a heart pang.

"Let's see what we have going on," the older deputy said, and led the way inside the office. Him first, the younger deputy, then me,

then Evan.

The front was still ajar, as Evan and I had left it when we'd come outside to wait.

The deputies looked around the front office, asking if there was any money kept on hand, things like that.

Doc G had never kept a lot of cash in the office, at least not that I'd been aware of. He usually had a healthy wad of bills in

his pocket. I assumed that Ivy had no ready cash here, either, though I told them I wasn't sure. Personally, I knew that Ivy had

no extra money at all, but I didn't say that part. I didn't think it was really their business.

They walked on thru the rest of the building, looking things over.

"Is this dog here all the time?" the younger deputy asked me, gesturing to the poodle, that I was still holding onto.

"No. I mean, she's staying here until her family picks her up," I said.

"Here's where the bottle was at," Evan said, walking towards the back wall. "The broken one."

They both stood there, looking down at the mess on the floor. I showed them the big piece of glass that I'd picked up. The piece

that had the name of the medication on it. I explained how the meds were in alphabetical order. The older deputy said

nothing, but the younger one smiled at me.

"That's a good system," he said.

"Thanks," I said.

"What else have you messed with in here?" the older deputy asked. Barnes. That was his name on his name tag.

Inside, I bristled. Evan answered the question, explaining that we'd gone out the back door, let the dog out, and

then picked up the one piece of glass.

"Mmm," Barnes said, walking towards the back door.

"He's a jerk," I said, sotto voce, to Evan.

"Shhh," Evan said.

"An ass," I insisted, for good measure.

"Harlie," Evan said, and I rolled my eyes, but was still.

I tried to put the dog away, back into the dog run, but she set up such a whining and squealing, that I went to

take her out again. I went outside where the two deputies and Evan were at, looking over the door, and also, I figured out,

for footprints, and all that.

"Is it alright if I go ahead and take care of the horses that are here?" I asked, addressing myself to the younger deputy. At least

he was nice.

"That's fine," he said. I handed the dog off to Evan, and went to feed and water the two horses. I was forking fresh hay

into the stalls, before I moved the horses back in, when I looked up to see the younger deputy standing near the open

door.

He walked on into the barn, and said, "She has a nice set-up here. Does she board horses?"

"Not full-time or anything. Usually just for a couple days here and there. Or if they're here for treatment," I said.

"My partner's a bit gruff at times," he said.

I was finished with what I was doing, and I looked at him as I leaned the pitchfork back against the wall.

I nodded in agreement, but kept my opinions to myself.

"He's a good officer," he went on. "It's just his way. Try not to take it personally."

"Okay," I said.

After that, he helped lead in one of the horses as I let the other one, and then he talked to me about general

things. He was nice. And nice-looking, as well. I had to admit to myself that it wasn't terrible at all, to stand there

talking to him.

They left shortly after that, though, from what I understood, they didn't necessary believe that anyone had

actually broken into the office. Since nothing appeared to be missing, or misplaced, other than the broken bottle, and

the door that had been left open.

I tried to explain, again, about how the key under the statue had been moved, but the older one, Barnes, said in

what I considered a dismissive way, "Statue could have been bumped. Caused it to move somewhat. And, again, I'm

advising that that habit be done away with. I imagine you'd be surprised by the number of folks who know that key's

there."

He said for us to let Ivy know about everything, and that she could give them a call if she had any questions.

As they prepared to leave, the younger deputy shook Evan's hand again, and said to me, pointing at his

name tag, "My name's Brett Watson."

"It was nice to meet you," I said. I didn't think there was anything wrong in saying that, but then I wondered. Because

Brett Watson smiled. Which would have been fine, but he looked amused. At least to me, he did.

What he said was, "It was nice to meet you, too, McFadden, Harlie."

At the repeated play on my name, I eyed him, wondering if he was making fun of me. But, his smile was genuine, now.

When they'd gone, I rechecked the dog run latch, and Evan locked the back door again. I swept up the broken glass

from the bottle of medicine, and Evan held the dust pan while I swept the slivers into it. We turned off all the lights, and went

out the front, and I made sure that the door was locked.

We were driving out of Murphys, and Evan stopped at the stop sign on the edge of town, and we both waved

at the Taylor's, who were walking across the street.

As Evan started driving again, he said, "Some afternoon, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I guess I was wrong about callin' them," Evan went on. "I just thought it should be checked out."

"I think it was the right thing, too," I said. "He was just an ass. And, before you shush me again, it's alright

to say it now. Nobody can overhear."

"He's probably not a bad guy," Evan said, turning the corner to head out of town. "It's not the easiest job in the

world to have."

"Cops should be like doctors," I said. "They should have to pass a course in being pleasant to people."

"It seems like that Watson wasn't havin' any trouble being pleasant," Evan said, giving me a side-long glance.

"He was nice," I agreed.

"A little too friendly, if you ask me," Evan said. "To you, that is."

"You're being silly," I said.

"I've got eyes," Evan said. "He was definitely flirtin' with you."

"He was not."

"He was."

"Well, alright then," I said. "So what if he was? It's sort of flattering."

"He's like twice your age."

"Oh, Ev, he is not," I objected. Then, to get him off of the current topic, I said, "And I'm not so sure that somebody

didn't break into the office. How else would the bottle be broken like that? And the door unlocked?"

"Well, they're the experts. If they don't think so, then they're probably right. Besides, they made a report, so at

least we did what we could."

"Right," I agreed. "I'm glad you were there, anyway."

"It's alright," he said.

"Is Nancy coming over for supper tonight?" I asked.

"She's gonna bring supper up to the cabin, so we can eat up there. She wants to hang some curtains and stuff."

When we pulled into the driveway at home, and Evan had parked, he took off right away, and I knew that he had alot

of stuff to catch up, since he'd been with me all afternoon.

I went in to say hello to Hannah and Clare, and dropped off my backpack in the living room. I headed right back out to

do my chores, and then hustled back inside to do my homework. I wanted to be ready to go with Brian as soon as supper was

finished.

The medicine that Clare was taking for her nausua seemed to really be helping her. She was at the table, finishing up making

a huge salad for supper. She actually had some color in her cheeks now.

She and Hannah started asking me more questions about what had happened at the vet office, and what Evan and I thought

had happened. I explained things, and Hannah started looking all worried.

My brothers were all filing into the kitchen by now, washing up, and ready to eat.

"I don't like the idea of you being there by yourself," Hannah was saying to me.

"I won't be," I told her.

"What's this about?" Adam asked, and Hannah began to explain to him. She began, and then paused, turning to me.

"Adam wasn't around when Evan called to tell us what was happening," she told me. "You tell him about it."

"Tell me, too," Brian added. "What's going on?"

I explained things, in as simple terms as I could. I didn't want Hannah stirred up any more than she already was.

"Evan just thought we should let the sheriff know, about the door being unlocked," I finished.

"I think that was a good idea," Hannah said.

"They don't think there's anything to it, though," I added.

"I still don't like it," Hannah said. "I don't think you should be there alone."

"I won't be," I said. "Ivy's going to be back."

"Well, if she's not, I don't want you to go tomorrow," Hannah said.

I felt like arguing, but I forced myself to not say anything else. As soon as supper was over, I caught Brian

and asked him when he was going to be ready to go.

"We can go right now," he said, and looked at Clare. "Wanna ride along, babe?" he asked her.

"I think I'll stay here," Clare said. "But, thanks. I'll see you when you get home."

"Okay," Brian gave her a hug, and kissed her forehead.

"Where are you going?" Adam asked, and I realized that Brian likely hadn't told anybody besides Clare where we

were going.

"Sonora," Brian said.

"What's goin' on in Sonora?" Guthrie asked, as he sat down on the couch, and stretched his legs out.

"Harlie has somethin' she wants to show me," was all Brian said.

"How about I ride along?" Guthrie said.

"It's alright with me," Brian said. "Go let Adam or Hannah know."

Guthrie got up to go towards the kitchen, presumably to do that, and came back with a handful of cookies.

We were getting into the old truck, when I said, in a low voice to Guthrie, "You can come along, but you're not allowed to

say anything."

"Why am I not allowed to speak?" Guthrie asked, sounding amused, and waving me on into the truck ahead of him.

I scooted over to the center of the seat. "You can speak. You just can't say you think it's a dumb idea. I don't need you

influencing Brian."

"About what? What are you plannin'?" Guthrie asked, unwrapping a stick of gum from his pocket and popping it into his mouth.

I would have answered, but Brian was sliding in, behind the steering wheel.

So I looked at Guthrie and shook my head just slightly.

7


	42. The Viewing

On the ride to the sale barn, Guthrie started repeating that he was hungry, and needed something to eat.

When Brian stopped for gas, Guthrie went inside the station, and returned, armed with candy bars and a bag of popcorn.

He offered Brian and I a candy bar, and Brian took the Snickers bar, but I refused mine. I did eat some of the popcorn, though.

Not much. I told Guthrie it tasted funny.

"It does not," Guthrie denied, stuffing his mouth with it.

I kept thinking on the ride, should I tell Brian anything more about the old horse, in order to prepare him, or

soften him up? Or, should I just keep quiet, so I didn't risk mucking things up?

I tried one comment. I said something about how the horse still had a regal bearing to him.

In response to that, Brian only nodded briefly, and made no verbal answer. I decided that silence was the best

preparation at that point.

Once we were there, pulling up into the lot of the sale barn, there weren't many folks around. Since it wasn't time for the

sale, or anything. There were some vehicles, probably from the employees.

When Brian had parked, I scrambled out after him, pointing to the holding pen where the horse had been. I couldn't help

feeling excited as we walked that way. Brian loves horses just as much as I do, if not more, and he was quite capable of

spotting potential in one. I just knew he would see what I saw in the horse.

Once we reached the pens, I walked quickly around it, searching for him, while Brian and Guthrie followed behind.

I found him, standing, again, near the edge of the pen. His head was up.

"Hello there, boy," I said, going over to the edge. I wanted so much to try to touch him. He was close enough for me to

do so, but I didn't want to spook him.

By now, Brian was there, beside me.

"This is him," I said.

Guthrie came up on the other side. Brian didn't say anything at first. He just walked a few steps further, looking at the

horse from different angles.

"He's an old guy, alright," Brian said.

I didn't think that was a very promising opening to this whole thing. I mean, the horse was old, for sure. But, I would have

liked for him to say something different.

"Twenty-one or twenty-two," I said.

"More like twenty-five or more," Brian said.

I knew that from the records, Dark Commander had been three or four or so in 1968, which would have made him 24 years old.

So, somewhere in between what I'd said, and what Brian thought.

"His name is Dark Commander," I told Guthrie.

"And he ran in the Derby?" Guthrie asked.

"Yes. In 1968," I said.

Guthrie reached his hand thru the opening, but the horse took a step away.

"He's skittish," Guthrie said.

"Probably he has good reason to be," I said, giving Guthrie a look meant to hush him up.

Brian leaned his arms on the top of the fence. He still hadn't said anything that gave me any clues to what he was

thinking. The expression on his face wasn't all that encouraging.

I stepped up on the bottom rung of the fence, and rested my own arms on top, like him.

"What do you think?" I asked him.

"I think-" he began, "That I don't know what you're thinking."

As I looked at him, he said, "This horse is old, and he's likely got a lot of health issues."

"But, he's regal, Brian! He's proud. Do you see it?"

"He was a fine animal, in his time," Brian allowed. He gestured. "See that knot on his leg? That's concerning."

I'd seen the lump, about the size of half a golf ball.

"It could be arthritis," I said.

"It could be. I'm sure he does have arthritis," Brian agreed. "But, I think that lump might be something else."

I wished then that I'd had Ivy take a look at the horse when I'd first come over here with her. I might have had

more of a footing if I had.

Brian was still talking. "Not to mention other health problems he likely has."

"I know. He's old, and he has things wrong, but-Brian-" I let my voice trail off.

Brian gave me a serious look, a long one, and then he said, "It's hard to say how much he's going to be sold for-"

"Not more than a couple hundred. That's what Ivy's friend that works here said," I reported.

"You say that as though a couple hundred bucks is nothin'," Brian said.

"I didn't mean it that way," I said, trying to explain. "But I have that much, Brian. I can pay for him myself."

"You're not takin' money out of your savings," Brian began.

"No. I won't. I've been saving my money from working for Ivy," I said quickly.

"What about the money for his vet bills?" Brian countered.

"I'll pay for that, too."

"That will eat up everything you make, and more besides," Brian warned.

It was a face-off then, for a few moments. I was trying to think of what to say, to convince him.

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said.

"Why?" I asked, trying to stay calm and mature.

"You put all your money into him, and then, he might not even make it. Have you thought about the possibility that

he's just wore out, and sick, and might need put down?"

"But, maybe it won't be that way," I persisted. "Maybe if he gets checked out, and gets some good care, and all of that, well,

maybe he can live out his life like he deserves to."

Brian sighed a little. Giving me a look. The look that plainly said that I was 'at it again'.

Guthrie must have felt uncomfortable, because he walked away, back around the other side of the pens.

I knew I only had a matter of minutes to make my final case.

"I'll use my own money," I said, again, earnestly.

"And when that's gone?" he asked, sounding as though he wasn't going to budge.

"I could use some of my savings," I said. "And then pay it back-"

"I already told you no on that option," he said, sounding stern.

"Yes. Okay," I conceded. "Couldn't I try this, though? Please?"

"Why is this so important to you?" Brian asked, bluntly. His eyes were pinning me.

"I want to help him," I said.

"That's vague, Harlie," he said. "I'm gonna say no, unless you can do a lot better than that to convince me

otherwise."

"I'd like him to live out his life with dignity. Every animal deserves that chance," I said, and then went silent. Just waiting.

There wasn't anything else I could think of to say.

After another couple of moments, Brian said, "Alright."

I felt my heart leap with excitement. I flung my arms around his middle. "Thank you! I knew you'd understand."

"I still have reservations about it," Brian said.

I told the horse that I would see him later, and I liked to believe that he understood me.

Once we were on the road, heading home, I was full of good emotions. Feeling as though I could accomplish anything.

"The sale starts at nine on Saturday morning. So, we should leave by seven, don't you think?" I was saying.

"Seven's too early," Guthrie contributed.

"Hush it," I told him.

"We should have the trailer hooked up Friday night," I went on. "That will save some time Saturday morning." I hesitated,

and then said, "Do you think I could do it?"

"Do what?" Brian asked.

"Pull the trailer to the sale."

"Not by yourself. You know that," he said.

"There's a first time for everything," I said, breezily.

"This isn't that time," Brian said.

"I bet the boys were doing it alone by the time they were my age," I pointed out.

"Do you want to just forget about the whole thing, Harlie?" Brian asked, sounding stern.

"No," I said meekly.

"Then, arguing with me isn't a good idea, is it?" he said.

"No, Bri," I said, half-serious, and half-not, and Guthrie, beside me, snickered.

Brian leaned up a bit, and peered into the rearview mirror.

"What're you lookin' at?" Guthrie asked, turning to look behind us, as if to see what it was that Brian found so

interesting.

"Checkin' for gray hairs," Brian said. "You babies are gonna cause me to be silver-haired by thirty-five."

7

 _Just a short chapter, this time! Thanks to everybody that has sent messages of concern to me! You all are the best! Hope_

 _to be back in the swing of frequent updates!_


	43. Curly hair and eyes of blue

The next evening, Hannah, as she'd promised, fixed a supper of all my favorite things. Steak, with baked potatoes, and

green beans. And she made strawberry shortcake, with vanilla ice cream. She'd even gotten bacon bits and sour cream for the

baked potatoes, which isn't that typical, since those are extras, and she has to be so careful with the grocery budget.

Ford was home again, as he'd been for every weekend the last three weeks. Nancy was there for supper, too, and we were

in the middle of eating our cake when Kenny arrived. At first he said he wouldn't have any cake or ice cream, but Hannah

told him he was being silly, and to sit down and have some.

He didn't protest much at all. Crane had gone to town, and bought a bunch of copies of this week's edition of the paper, that

had my article in it. He made sure to put one on his desk, saying it was to show Daniel when he got home.

After we'd all eaten and drifted outside mostly, Brian said we could hook up the trailer to one of the trucks. All our pickups

have the ability to pull a trailer, and it ended up being Ford's truck that we were going to use.

It was while we were doing that, that I heard Adam ask Brian about the old horse at the auction barn. I couldn't help

overhearing, or seeing the expression on Adam's face, either. He thought it was a bad idea, I could tell. It wasn't what

he said, really, but more the way that his expression spoke.

"Just what we need around here," I heard him say. And, by that, I knew he meant 'a broken down race horse'.

Brian wasn't saying a whole lot in response. I didn't want Adam to snarl at Brian because he'd gone along with

my idea. I slipped up beside them, just as Brian was saying something about it being important to me.

"Important doesn't mean essential," Adam said, Or something like that.

"Adam, I want to try," I said, hoping to stop his irritation. Both at the idea, and at Brian, too. "I'm going to use

my own money."

"Not your savings, you're not," he countered, looking up at me, from where he and Brian were hitching up the trailer.

"No. Brian already told me that," I assured him.

Adam straightened up to his full height, then, and looked at me. "Where do you get these ideas from?" he asked. "Do they

just come to you, or do you dream them at night, or what?"

I could tell he wasn't really irritated, anymore, and so I just gave him a half-smile and a shrug. He reached out and

tapped the brim of my hat that I wore, a ball cap featuring a picture of Johnny Cash. And then, after that tap of it,

he gave it a tug, and pulled it down over my eyes.

7

Kenny hung around for most of the evening, even going with a bunch of us up to the cabin, so we could all see

the progress that Evan had made. It had been over a week since I'd been up there, and I was shocked. Totally. It

looked like a little home. Nancy had done her share, too. There were curtains hanging at the two windows, and the bed, which

was in one corner, had a bright blue bedspread on it.

There was a different kitchen table, not new, but definitely a step up from the old broken-down one that had been there before. There was

a smaller refrigerator there now, not yet full of food or plugged in. The woodstove was still front and center of the room, ready to

be used to heat in the colder weather. The cookstove was still a working one, and Nancy had done her best to clean it up. The teeny-tiny

bathroom had only a sink and toilet, but Evan had installed a shower. Nothing fancy, and the water pressure wasn't that

great at the cabin, but still, it was one more thing that made it seem like a proper home. Nancy seemed so

proud of the cabin, showing everybody where stuff was at, and then commenting that they needed a floor lamp to sit between

two chairs.

Adam asked about chairs, and then the talk began as to whether there might be a rocker or recliner around somewhere that they

could use. I made up my mind to talk to Ford and Guthrie later about maybe chipping in together to buy a nice lamp for them as a wedding present.

Evan started talking about possibly building another small room on later, for the bedroom to be separate.

As he talked, he made it sound as though it would be nothing but a thirty minute job or so. I think Adam and Brian thought

the same thing, too, but neither one of them said anything discouraging.

So, the cabin was nearly move-in ready. All the bridal shower presents had been toted up here already. Brian was looking along the

wall near the bed and he said he thought that an attached shelving unit could be built there, so there would be more of a place to keep

towels and things.

"Because you know you're gonna get more towels as gifts at the wedding," Brian told them, jokingly.

Nancy, standing now beside Evan, her arm tucked thru his, looked interested right away at Brian's suggestion of a shelf.

"Could we, Brian?" she asked Brian. "Have a set of shelves built there? That would be nice-"

Brian held up a hand, as if in defense. "I wasn't exactly volunteerin' myself-" he said, and everybody laughed.

Nancy left Evan and came to hook her arm thru Brian's now. She was smiling at him, her eyes sparkling in

mischief. "But, Brian, the way you were describing it-well, it just sounds as though you have the perfect way to build

it in your mind already!"

"That'll teach me to shoot off my big mouth," Brian said, but he was smiling, too, when he said it.

Nancy squeezed his arm, and then went back over to take Evan's hand, again.

7

A bunch of us walked back to the house together, but after we'd walked a ways, I found that Kenny was keeping step beside me.

"The cabin looks good," he said, in conversation.

"It does, doesn't it?" I agreed, with enthusiasm. "It's hard to believe it's the same place. And Guthrie thought it was a dumb

idea when I first suggested it." I called ahead to Guthrie, unable to resist teasing him. "Isn't that right, Guthrie?"

Guthrie, walking beside Ford, turned back and said, "Huh?"

"You thought it was a stupid idea at first, fixing up the cabin. remember?!" I said.

"So, you have one good idea in a whole year," Guthrie called back to me, and then went back to talking to Ford.

I laughed, and Kenny did, too.

"I'll help, if they need it, I mean," Kenny said. "With the shelves and stuff."

"That'd be nice," I said. "They'd probably be glad of the help."

We were quiet for a few minutes, and then I asked Kenny how his dad was doing.

"It took a lot out of him," Kenny said, looking regretful. "Me gettin' into trouble like I did."

I was sorry that I'd brought it up now.

"Well, you're home now," I said, cheerily. "So you can do things to help him again."

"Yeah."

"Are your folks planning to come to Evan's wedding?" I asked him.

"They're plannin' on it, yeah."

I nodded.

And, then, surprising me by the change in topic, he asked, sort of quietly, "You're dating that Bill guy, right?"

"I've gone out with him a couple of times," I said.

"He seems like a nice guy."

"Yeah. He's nice," I agreed.

"How come you asked me to go to the party tomorrow with you?" Kenny asked. "Instead of going with him, I mean."

I shot Kenny a glance. I wasn't sure what to say, how to answer. I didn't want to tell Kenny that it had been

Guthrie's idea. That would hurt his feelings for sure. And, I knew that Kenny was still trying to find his way again,

with the kids at school, and with everything else.

"Maybe I thought you might like to go," I suggested, trying to make the conversation less serious. "Or maybe I thought

it would fun to go with you. Did you ever think of that, silly?" And, I gave him a light poke in the side.

Kenny smiled, but I thought it was sort of a sad-seeming smile, if that makes any sense.

"I don't want you to feel like you have to go out of your way for me, Harlie," he said, in sort of a low tone. I knew

he didn't want anybody overhearing. "I mean, I appreciate it and all, I really do. It means a whole lot. But, if you'd

rather go with Bill, or-"

"Kenny!" I said, and I stopped walking, turning to face him. He stopped, too, looking at me.

"What?"

"It's okay about tomorrow night. Really. It is."

I must have convinced him, because he smiled again. A genuine one this time. "That's great, Harlie! I mean, that's

really terrific."

I saw Brian glance back our way, and then Adam, walking in front, and holding Hannah's hand, looked back, too.

I started walking again. I didn't want anybody wondering, or asking questions.

After we all got back to the house, Clare, who had stayed with Isaac, was waiting for us with snacks. In the time

we'd been gone, she'd made peanut butter and M&M cookies. Since she's on the medicine from the doctor for her morning sickness,

her appetite has picked up a lot. When we came in, she was sitting on the couch, holding a sleeping Isaac, and munching on

cookies.

Adam went to take Isaac from her, and carried him upstairs to his crib. Everybody else, which was all of us, except for Crane, who'd

gone out, and Daniel, who wasn't home yet, sat around after that, eating cookies, and drinking tall glasses of cold milk.

After Nancy left, Evan went up to bed, and then Clare went shortly after. Ford had been playing a game of UNO with Guthrie,

Kenny and I. After the first game he said he was tired, too, and went to bed.

Hannah went around, cleaning up from all the snacking we'd done, and was actually contemplating sweeping the floor, when

Adam caught her by the hand. "It's nearly ten o'clock," he told her, laying a hand on her waist. "It can wait until tomorrow."

"I guess it can," Hannah agreed. She told the three of us goodnight, and she and Adam went upstairs, too.

Kenny, Guthrie and I played another round of UNO, and eventually Guthrie said he was done.

"Yeah. I guess I'd better be heading for home," Kenny said.

"See ya tomorrow, Ken," Guthrie said, as he headed towards the kitchen.

After that, I started gathering up the UNO cards to put away, and picking up the couch pillows that had been laying

all over the floor where we were sitting.

"We really did make a mess, didn't we?" Kenny said, gesturing to the popcorn, and bits of cookies on the floor.

"Yeah. I think I'll go ahead and sweep up for Hannah," I said.

Kenny nodded, and when I came back from the kitchen, carrying the broom and dustpan, Kenny was looking at

the page in the newspaper that my story was on.

"It's really cool," he said, looking up at me. "That they published something you wrote."

"Yeah. It was sort of a surprise when McQueeney told me about it."

I began sweeping up the mess, and Kenny laid the newspaper back on the desk, and came over, picking up the dustpan.

When I had a pile swept up, he crouched down, holding the dustpan.

I watched the top of his head, while still sweeping. It seemed as though his hair was curlier than I remembered it being

before.

"Hey!" he protested, and I looked his face, instead of his hair.

"What?"

"You're missin' the dustpan," he said, grinning. "You're sweepin' it on me, instead."

"Oh," I said, feeling a little embarrassed. I paid more attention and we finished, and Kenny went to dump the dustpan, and

put it and the broom back in the kitchen.

We sort of stood there for a couple of moments, in the center of the living room. Not saying anything.

"Well, I guess I better get goin'," Kenny said. "I don't want Dad to worry."

"Yeah. Okay," I said. He walked over to the door, and I followed, switching on the porch light.

"There. Now you won't fall in the dark, and break your leg on the way to your truck," I said, jokingly.

"Thanks," he said, and pulled on his ball cap.

Another moment of silence.

"I sure have a good time when I'm over here," he said. "Your family's really been great to me. I mean, they

were always great before, too, but now-after what happened and all, they still all treat me good. Sometimes, I don't

know why."

"None of them are mad at you, Kenny," I said. "You don't have to worry about all that stuff when you're here."

He nodded, looking as though he wanted to say something, but then didn't.

"Well-" he said, and took a step or two, and then paused. I was sort of pressed up against the wall, right beside the

light switches. He was standing so close that I could smell his shampoo. Even at that moment, I thought how weird it was,

that I thought a boy smelled so nice.

I felt my cheeks get warm, and I held my breath, nearly. What in the heck was wrong with me? It was only Kenny,

for Pete's sake. I knew then that he was going to kiss me. And, I wanted him to.

He did kiss me, then. But he sort of leaned in. He didn't put his hands anywhere on my shoulders or anywhere else.

When he raised his head to look at me, I wondered when his eyes had gotten so blue. He kissed me again,

and this time I felt his hand on my waist.

There was a sound of a clearing throat, and we broke apart.

Brian was standing there, having come from the kitchen, a glass of milk in one hand.

I felt horrified. Panicked.

Silently, in my own head, I was pleading, 'Please, please, Brian-don't go crazy. Please please don't say anything'. Only in

my own head, of course.

Kenny looked mortified, too. I had to give him some credit then, though. He didn't duck his head, or turn and flee thru the door.

He just was silent. As was I. Waiting for Brian to say something. I knew it was only a matter of seconds, though it seemed longer.

"Time for you to be headin' home, isn't it, Kenny?" Brian said. He sounded mild enough. Friendly enough. There was

just the very faintest hint of censure in his tone.

"Yes, sir," Kenny said. He gave me a look. "Goodnight, Harlie."

"'Night," I said.

"I'll see ya tomorrow," he said.

"Right," I said, and after he left, going out on the porch, I closed the door behind him.

"Should I leave the porch light on for Crane?" I asked, wishing my cheeks didn't feel so hot.

"Yeah. That's a good idea," Brian said.

I turned to face him, more fully. Sure then, that he was going to ask me all sorts of questions. Or lecture me. Or something.

Instead, he only gave me a long look, and then said, "If you're wantin' to get an early start tomorrow to the auction, you should

be gettin' to bed yourself."

"Okay," I said.

We walked up the stairs together, and at the door of my bedroom, Brian only dropped a kiss on the top of my head,

told me to sleep well, and then walked on to the stairs leading to he and Clare's attic rooms.

7


	44. The Drive Discussion

I went to sleep that night, smiling. Thinking about Kenny, and that enjoyable kiss. And about Brian. I was definitely in

favor of, and approving of this softer side of Brian, and easy-going manner to things.

I should have known, that as with most things in life, both situations would be not quite what they seemed, and would become

more complicated.

7

The next morning, I was up at the first buzz of my alarm clock, and got dressed quickly, brushed my teeth, and was braiding

my hair as I was walking down the stairs.

In the kitchen, breakfast was ready, and I made my way thru the milling about of McFaddens, sliding into my seat at

the table. Evan must have been up for awhile already, because he was finishing eating, and taking his plate to the sink, declaring

that he was off to the cabin to work.

"Wait for me, I'll come with you," Ford told him.

Evan told him to hurry if he was coming, and Ford grumbled a little, finishing off his last bites of eggs and taking his own

plate to the sink.

Brian told Ford he would put fill up his truck with gas after our trip to the sale barn. When it looked as though Brian was

finished eating, I began to eat faster. Beside me, in his high chair, Isaac was eating eggs, too, picking up the pieces with his

chubby fingers. What didn't make it into his mouth, went onto the floor.

While Brian was still at the table, drinking coffee and talking to Adam, I put my plate away, and slipped upstairs to

my bedroom. I took out my stash of money from the top dresser drawer. I hadn't spent much lately, and with the money

from Ivy, I had just under two hundred dollars. $195. Surely, I thought, the old horse wouldn't go for more than that.

I went back downstairs, after tucking the money into my pocket, thinking that if he was only a hundred dollars or so, then

I would have enough left to pay for any medicine that he might need, in order to start him on the road to recovered health.

I was even thinking ahead to a splashy, vibrant colored coat for him to wear as the mornings got cooler.

I reappeared in the kitchen, feeling excited and confident. I got a travel mug and filled it with coffee, and then grabbed

a couple of granola bars and an apple to snack on mid-morning. I had too big of a day planned to have to be worried about

my blood sugar crashing.

I walked behind Brian's chair, on my way to the living room. "I'll wait for you outside," I told him.

I was already in Ford's truck, by the time Brian ambled out. He opened the door and tossed me the keys.

"Go on and start it," he told me. "I want to check the trailer hitch one more time."

"Okay," I said, taking the keys and reaching over to put them into the ignition, and starting the motor. Then, I began

fiddling with the radio station, trying to find the one I know Brian likes to listen to. They play a mixture of new songs, and the

old ones, too. Brian likes to listen to George Strait, but he also likes the older stuff, like Ernest Tubbs.

As Brian got in, and sat, adjusting the rear view mirror for a clear view of the trailer, I gestured to the radio.

"There you go," I said. "All set up."

"Nice. Thank you," he said. "Leave it off for a bit, though. I thought we could talk."

Now, I don't want to say that I'm automatically suspicious in nature, or anything like that, but that did give me a

qualm or two. I turned slightly, as much as my seat belt would allow, to face him better.

"Okay," I said, prepared to have an open mind. I figured he was going to caution me again about listening to what he

had to say at the sale barn. And, I was determined to be respectful and sweet. Ha.

Brian didn't say anything immediately. He concentrated on the trailer, checking in the mirror, until we were out onto the

main road. Then, he said, "What's up with you and Kenny?"

Ah, there it was. I should have known that he wouldn't just take in what he'd witnessed last night, and say nothing.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I thought it was a totally reasonable question, but Brian gave me a 'you're kidding'

sort of response.

"I'm not trying to be funny," I told him. "I'm just not sure what you mean. He kissed me."

"Yeah, I saw that part of it, remember?" Brian said dryly.

"Which was-embarrassing," I said lightly. "And, I thank you very much for not saying anything."

Instead of responding to that, Brian said, "I thought you liked that Bill kid." He reached up to turn the defroster off.

"I do," I said. "Bill's nice."

He looked as though he was turning thoughts over in his head, as to what to say next, so I preempted him.

"It's not like kids go steady or anything like that anymore," I told him. "I'm not serious about Bill, or anything."

"That's good. I don't want you to be," he said.

I tilted my head at him, puzzled.

"You don't like him?" I asked.

"It's got nothin' to do with that. He seems alright. What I know of him, that is. I'd rather you weren't serious about

anybody at all for a good long time, yet."

I lifted my hands in expression. "Well, there you go," I said. "I'm not serious about anybody." I thought fleetingly of Eddie, and

amended my response a bit. "At least, I'm not about Bill. Or Kenny. So, see, you don't have to worry."

"What was that about, then? You and Kenny, last night?" he asked.

I thought about how to answer that. I didn't want to get too involved, and tell Brian that Kenny's curlier-than-usual hair and bluer-than-usual

eyes had caused me to have a weak moment or something.

"It was a kiss, Bri," I said, and now I was starting to feel embarrassed. A bit. "That's all."

"I'm not tryin' to make somethin' where there's nothing," he said. "I just think that Kenny might be a little mixed-up. I'd hate to

see that ended up with anybody hurt. Especially you."

Now, I was really puzzled.

"Why do you think I would be hurt?" I asked. "Or Kenny be hurt?"

"Maybe he likes you, more than you like him, for one thing." He gave me a side-long glance. "Maybe?" he asked.

"I don't know what he feels, really," I admitted.

"Well, how about you? Is startin' to date him again somethin' you want to do?" Brian continued, seemingly relentless.

I considered, and then said, in honesty, "I don't know."

"Okay," he said, after a moment or so of quiet. "I'm not tryin' to harp at you, or make this like a lecture. I just want you to

be careful, and keep in mind all your feelings. And Kenny's, too."

I sighed a little, and then nodded. "Okay."

"Okay," he said. "Find a good song for us to listen to," he said, then, and I leaned forward, turning on the radio.

7

Once at the sale barn, I was surprised by the number of trucks and trailers already there.

"Look at all these darn people," I grumbled. "Why didn't some of them stay home?"

"Don't they have the right to show up, too?" Brian asked, sounding amused at my complaint.

"No. I want to keep the price down," I said, peering out my window.

Brian found a place to park, and then backed the trailer up, in preparation.

"We'll have it backed up, and ready, in case you get your horse," he told me.

"I'll get him," I said, with confidence.

Brian eyed me, looking as though he was going to say something, but then, instead, said only, "Let's go get a number."

We went into the small office, swarming with ranchers and their kids, talking, and signing up for auction numbers.

There were a couple of ranchers that Brian knew, and he was talking with them, as we waited our turn in the line.

When we got up to the front, Leah, who was the one working the desk, smiled at me in recognition.

"Hi! You made it over, huh?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I said, smiling back at her.

"That's great-who's this?" she asked, looking up at Brian, with definite interest, standing beside me.

"This is my brother. Brian," I said, in introduction. "Brian, this is Leah. The friend of Ivy's that I told you about."

"Right," Brian said, and gave Leah a smile. "Hi."

"Hello," Leah said, and I could practically see the wheels in her mind turning. She got Brian registered, in his name, and not

mine, since I was a minor and all. Then she handed him a number card.

"Good luck," she said, and as Brian turned away, she raised her eyebrows at me, her eyes going all wide, and gave a nod

at Brian's back. There was too many people around to explain to her at that moment that Brian was happily married, with a

baby on the way.

After he'd bought us each a cup of coffee at the concession area, Brian said, "We might as well go and find a seat."

"I'm gonna go look at Dark Commander first, okay? Can I borrow your pocketknife?"

"What for?"

"I thought I'd try feeding him a little bit of apple," I said.

Brian dug into his jeans pocket, and pulled out his pocketknife, handing it off to me.

"Alright. I'll be sittin' over in that area," Brian told me, gesturing to the south.

"Okay. I won't be long," I promised, and made my way thru the ever-increasing throng of people to the holding pens. The horses

were thinned out, as some of them were already being put into the areas closer to the selling arena.

I was hoping that my horse, as I already thought of him, was still in the outer corrals. I wanted to get another look at him. And, he was.

Standing, off to the side again, trying to stay balanced, it seemed, when other horses crowded into him.

"Not much room in there, is there, fella?" I asked him.

The horse looked at me, and then put his head down.

"Do you remember me?" I asked him. I stretched my fingers thru the boards, and, though he didn't jerk away, he made

no attempt to sniff my hand, either. I took the apple I'd brought out of the backpack over my shoulder, and cut it in half, then in fourths.

I tentatively held out one of the small pieces, and after a couple of moments, the horse turned to sniff, then took a step or two closer.

He took it from my palm, but, then, though it was a small piece, he dropped most of it onto the ground. I tried a second piece, and

that went much the same.

I began to tell him about the ranch, in soft tones, as if he could understand. I told him that there was plenty of grazing fields,

and clean water, and a place to go when it rained, or was cool.

"And there's other horses, too," I said. "You'll like old Charley. He'll be nice to you. Petra is a pain at first, but

you'll get used to her. And Dandy's about as old as you are-"

I broke off, as I heard footsteps beside me. An older man stood there, looking, I thought, surprised to hear me talking

to a horse.

"He hasn't answered ya yet, has he?" he asked, snorting, as if he was amusing.

"Not yet," I said, as if in total seriousness, and he blinked at me.

"No use to talk to that one, anyhow," he said, then.

"Why not?"

"He's meant for the glue factory."

I felt my McFadden temper rise. I turned my back to him, and began looking at the horse again. "That would be a real waste of a

good horse," I said, evenly.

I heard the man walking away again, and I leaned closer, stretching my fingers out again.

"Don't pay any attention to him," I told the horse, softly. "Some humans are really stupid, and not worth knowing."

7


	45. Shiny boots

I could hear the auctioneer, winding up with announcements, which signaled the beginning of the auction.

I went to the area where Brian had said he would be sitting, and found him, third row up, sitting next to a man who

I recognized as a rancher around Murphys. I couldn't think of his name off the top of my head, and it was a while later that

I remembered where I'd seen him at last.

"See your horse?" Brian asked me, as I said my 'excuse me's' and worked my way past other people to where Brian sat.

"Yeah, I saw him," I said. It seemed as though the rancher seemed to be listening with interest to our conversation, and I

scooted a little closer to Brian, and said, "He had trouble eating the apple."

"He probably needs his teeth floated," Brian said.

"Mmm," I said, thinking that was probably right.

The man sitting on the other side of Brian leaned forward a bit, and said, "You here to buy, or just have a look-see, Brian?"

I concentrated, and then I remembered, just as Brian answered, "We're havin' a look. How about you, Harve?"

Harve. I remembered, now. This was one of the men who'd laughed last summer, the time I'd been with Evan and Guthrie

in the gas station. They'd called me a crusader. This wasn't the one who'd told me I was disrespectful, but he'd been standing

right there. He'd had the opinion of the wild Mustangs that they were nothing but a nuisance.

"Never know," the other man answered Brian.

The auction began, and I was enthralled. It seemed as though the horses coming thru first were in good shape, at least to me

it seemed so. They weren't too thin, and seemed to have no trouble walking around the sale ring. All colors. There was no shortage of bids

for these horses, and things moved fairly quickly. Five hundred, eight hundred, the prices ranged.

I wondered if that was a sign that Dark Commander was going to go high. After around forty-five minutes and fifteen horses or so,

there was a small break.

"Believe I'll go and fetch myself another cup of coffee," the rancher named Harve said, clapping Brian on one shoulder as

he stood up. As he made his way down thru the other two rows, I said, "That's one of the men last summer that said

the Mustangs should be rounded up and killed."

"Harve?" Brian asked me, looking surprised.

"Yes. I'm sure. I remember him from that time I was with Evan. He called me a crusader."

"Hmm."

"There's sure a lot of asshats at an auction," I muttered.

"Callin' you a crusader doesn't make Harve an asshat, does it?" Brian asked, sounding amused.

"No. It's because of what he said about the Mustangs. He must not remember me. If he did, he'd probably

fill your ear about what a brat I am or something."

"I don't need Harve to tell me that," Brian said. "I already know it."

"So funny," I told him. We sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, just watching the crowd.

"It's worrying me a little," I said. "The horses are all going so high."

"How much money do you have with you?" he asked.

"Two hundred. Nearly."

"Well, peach, they're runnin' the high-end horses thru first. That's the way it's done."

"Oh." I thought about that for a moment.

"Havin' his teeth floated is probably just the first of many things that old fella needs done," Brian said, as if he

was warning me.

"Lots of horses need their teeth floated," I said, snappily, in defense. "If every horse that needed that done was sold for glue, there'd

be hardly any horses left-"

"I know that. I said, it's likely he needs far more than that," Brian said, giving me a quelling glance. "Don't get

on your high horse with me, young lady."

He sounded about a seven on the scale of annoyance, and I immediately gave him a look of contrition.

"Sorry," I said.

"Uh huh," he said, and looked out forward, towards the goings-on in the sale ring.

"I mean it," I said, quietly, hooking my arm thru his. "You're the only one who would bring me over here, and not

think it's just a waste of time. I haven't got any business being snappy to you."

Brian turned his head, just slightly, to look at me. "There's a chance this isn't goin' to go the way that you want it

to go, peach. If he goes for more than what you have-well, then, you're going to have to take it like you should. Not like

a little kid."

"I have faith," I said, stubbornly.

"And faith is a great thing," Brian said. "But, you still need to be prepared for the other outcome of it."

I met his eyes. Measuring the intenseness.

"I mean it, Harlie," he said, sounding stern, really stern, and not just annoyed like before.

"I promise," I said.

"Alright," he said, and after that we were quiet. Harve came back, carrying a cup of coffee, and a piece of

what looked like lemon pie on a paper plate.

As the auction was preparing to begin again, I couldn't help feeling all jumpy inside.

The horses that they began bringing thru now were obviously in not as good shape as the previous ones.

When they brought in two mares, obviously older, with a colt, I paid close attention.

The colt, a male, still had the gangly look to him. And, he was thin. Too thin. He appeared skittish when one of the men working the

sale ring flicked a whip at him. He skittered over to the edge of the ring, and put his nose up in the air.

"Blind," Brian said, just as the auctioneer announced that very thing.

"About a year," came the booming voice, "Been blind since birth, is what we're told. What am I bid for the lot?"

A few men shouted out questions about buying only the mares, and I sat up very straight, trying to make sure that I

was understanding the auctioneer correctly.

"They're going to sell the mares separate?" I asked Brian.

He nodded in answer, and I sat up very straight, keeping my eye on the colt. He kept putting his nose up, and I thought he

must be doing that since he didn't have sight, and was using his sense of smell to see what was going on.

The mares went together, for three hundred if I was understanding. To me, the auctioneer is hard to follow at times.

Then they began offering bids for the colt. At first there was nothing. Then a bid of twenty-five dollars.

I straightened up, and leaned closer to Brian. "Only twenty-five, Bri!"

They began to purposefully herd the colt around the ring, as if they thought it was funny, letting him nearly run into things,

and then shoving at his neck.

"They're being jerks," I said.

I reached up and tapped the white number card, proclaiming '38', that was in Brian's shirt pocket, to show him that I wanted to bid.

He gave me an immediate look of 'you're kidding', and then shook his head at me. "No," he said.

I felt let-down. Desolate, really. I had to watch as they kept running him around, and then at the last minute, a man

on the front row, bid fifty dollars.

"Sold for fifty dollars, to number 14!" boomed the auctioneer.

They took the mares and colt on out of the ring, and I studied the man who'd bought the colt.

Brian turned and said quietly, to me, "You still want the old guy, don't you?"

I nodded at him, and he said, "Well, you need to keep your money for him. If you let every animal that comes thru

the ring get to you, then you'll lose your focus."

He was right, and I knew it. Still, I felt so sad for that colt. I kept studying that man on the front row, as they

brought in another lot of horses. These were thin, and not great looking, and, with only one or two other bids, that

man bought them all. And very cheaply.

From where I sat, if I leaned just right, I could see details about the man. It was his boots that gave him away to

me. They were clean. Shiny.

"Brian, he's a kill buyer," I said.

"What?"

"That man," I nodded. "The one down front that bought the colt. And bought that whole last lot. He's a kill buyer."

"You don't know that."

"I do," I insisted. "Look at his boots."

"I can't see his boots from here-"

"They're shiny. Clean," I said. "No rancher has clean boots like that. He's a kill buyer."

Brian made a 'hmmm' sort of response. Not disagreeing but not agreeing, either.

"Leah said they would be here today," I added.

"There's nothing you can do about that," Brian said.

"But he bought that colt, Bri!" I said.

"Focus," Brian reminded me.

I subsided, but the more I thought about it, the worse that I felt. I tried not to think of the colt, or any of the

other horses that the man in front was bidding on. When Dark Commander was brought in, he had his head down.

I was sorry about that. It made him look old, worn, instead of proud.

Brian had taken the number out of his shirt pocket, and was holding it in one hand.

"So, you want to run it all the way to two hundred?" he asked me. "Or stop before that?"

"No," I said, straightening up, and focusing my gaze on Dark Commander. "All the way."

"Alright," he said.

And, the bidding began. It started at one hundred, and Brian raised the card, signaling a bid. There was another man bidding,

he looked like somebody's grandfather, and then when, between he and Brian, it had gotten to a hundred and twenty-five, my stomach

began to hurt. Then the 'grandpa' shook his head, and I thought we'd won. The auctioneer revved up the bid again, and now the kill

buyer began to bid against us. $130; $150; and on it went. The bid reached $175, and the auctioneer regaled the crowd

with how Dark Commander had run in the Kentucky Derby in the late 1960's.

I wished he would just shut up, and get on with it.

$175, and I held my breath, and saw the KB down front shake his head. I let out my breath with a whoosh of relief.

"Sold to number 38!" was the announcement.

Brian put the number back into his pocket, and turned to me.

"Well, there you go, peach. You own a racehorse."

I nodded, watching as they herded Dark Commander out of the ring, and prepared to bring in more horses.

"Can we go get him now?" I asked.

"We need to go pay first, and then we'll see about gettin' him," Brian told him.

Before we could move to get up, the rancher, Harve, leaned closer to Brian and gave his opinion.

"What in hell do you want that horse for, Brian?" he demanded. "He'll not be of use for anything, except eatin', and

costing you money in veterinary bills."

I bristled, as Brian and I both stood up. Brian put a hand on the center of my back.

"Harlie thinks she can do somethin' with him," Brian said, lightly.

"Pure foolishness," Harve snorted.

"Well, it may be," Brian said, evenly, "But we figure to let her try."

I had the satisfaction of seeing the other man's face, looking disgruntled at Brian's words. As if no one should answer him

back, or voice their differing opinion.

As we were walking in front of Harve, to head down the steps, I couldn't resist adding my own comment to the mix.

"You won't recognize him in six months, because he's going to look one-hundred percent better. Maybe we'll invite you over

to see him, then, and you'll see how wrong you were about him."

"Harlie-" Brian said, just as Harve looked shocked, and then let out a burst of laughter.

"Alright, young lady, I'll hold you to it. Just let me know the date, and I'll be at your place, ready to eat my words. How's that?" he said.

"You bet," I said.

We went to the front office, to pay for Dark Commander. There were so many people, walking there, and then once inside,

that there wasn't a chance to have much of a conversation with Brian.

There was another girl at the front now, not Leah. I paid for the horse, and, after that, Brian and I worked our way back

thru the throng of people. We watched the pens for a few minutes, and he said, "They're still workin' him this way. It'll be a bit. Let's

get some lunch."

We were lucky to find an empty table in the sale barn café, there were so many people in there eating. It was a hubbub of noise,

and the smell of country cooking, and cigarette smoke.

Brian read the specials that were listed on the white board, and said, "Meatloaf, or pork chops?"

"What are you having?" I asked.

"Meatloaf."

"I've have that, too," I told him, and when the waitress came to take our orders, Brian told her two meatloaf platters. She was

back in a couple of minutes, with iced tea for him, and lemonade for me.

While we were waiting for our food, I took a few drinks of lemonade, and then leaned more across the table, so he could hear

me over the nearby conversations going on.

"He doesn't look bad, do you think?" I asked. For some reason, it was important to me that Brian saw something more than

a used-up race horse when he looked at Dark Commander.

"He needs some weight put on him. If his teeth are floated, it'll help with that." Brian moved the bottle of hot sauce from the center

of the table, and met my eyes. "No. He doesn't look bad."

I gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks, Bri."

"What for?"

"For bringing me. For not telling me I'm being dumb, spending my money this way. For being a great brother."

Brian studied me, looking as though he was going to say something, but then the waitress returned, setting two steaming

plates in front of us.

So, all he said was, "Eat your lunch. We've got a race horse to load."

7


	46. No soul

I'd been a little concerned about how Dark Commander would load for us. I figured it wouldn't be too bad, since he had been loaded and unloaded in

and out of trailers most of his life. Still, you never knew what a horse was going to do until the time came.

It was already after one when we got the horse from where he was waiting, and, while Brian waited outside the fences, I went

in, and approached him with a halter. I did it slowly, because I for sure did not want to spook him. There were only a few other horses

around by this time, in this particular pen, and a couple of them ambled right up to me. Dark Commander, meanwhile, waited until I was

nearly up onto him, and then walked away. Not hurriedly, but just more in a casual way. He walked a few feet further, and then

stopped, gave me a half-way look, and then hung his head again.

I tried again. And it was the same. He would wait until I was nearly to him, and then walk away. I talked to him in a low,

kind voice, but it didn't seem to help any.

I looked over where Brian was standing, and watching, on the other side of the fences. I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, and shook

my head a little bit.

"Try again," Brian called over to me.

So, I did try again. And, again. The fourth time, he skittered away, and gave me a reproachful look.

"What am I doing wrong?" I asked Brian, feeling frustrated.

"You still have some apple?" Brian asked me.

"In my pack," I said, pointing to the bag beside his feet, where I had set it.

Brian motioned for me to come back over and went I got to the fence, he'd taken the apple out of my backpack, and

was shaving it with his pocketknife. He took two small pieces and handed them to me.

"Give him those," he said. "Then turn your back. Stand close, but turn your back."

"What's that gonna do?" I asked.

"Just try it," Brian said.

I went back over closer to the horse, and held out the pieces of apple. He raised his head, observing the fruit with interest.

"You want this, don't you, boy?" I coaxed.

He came closer, stretching out his neck to take the bits of apple from my hand.

"I can get the halter on now," I said to Brian. "At least, I think I can."

"No. Not yet," he said.

"What? Why?" I asked.

"Give him the other piece of apple, and then turn your back like I told you."

So, I did that. The horse took the apple piece, and seemed to manage much better chewing with the smaller pieces than he had earlier. Then I

turned around, so that I had my back to the horse, and was looking at Brian.

"Should I walk away?" I asked. "To see if he'll follow me now?"

"No. Just stand there. Real still."

So, I did. It was only a couple of moments, really, I think, when I felt the breath on my shoulder and upper arm.

"Try now," Brian said, from his spot at the fence. "Easy."

I turned slowly, and looked at Dark Commander. I let him smell my hand, and inhale the last of the remnants of apple. Then I raised

my arms, and slipped the halter over his nose and ears.

When I turned to face Brian again, I was as proud as if I'd won a rodeo event. I felt as if I'd accomplished something.

It was nothing to load the horse. Not difficult at all. I led him, and he walked right up into the trailer. I spent a couple of minutes with

him, talking, and rubbing his nose, until Brian called me out, and prepared to close the trailer doors.

"Whew!" I said, feeling relieved, and thinking longingly of an ice cold Coke.

"Want a soda before we leave?" I offered. "I'll buy."

"You run get us some," Brian said. "I'll stay here with the old guy."

"Okay," I said, and went as quickly as I could to the concession area. I saw the KB guy sitting at one of the outside tables,

reading over a newspaper.

"Two bottles of Coke," I told the girl who came to the window. When she'd handed them out to me, already opened, I turned

to go. Some instinct, if you want to call it that, made me pause beside the man's table.

"Excuse me," I said, and he looked up.

Immediately, a smile appeared on his face. "Hello," he said.

I came right to the point. "I was wondering if you might want to resell that blind colt you bought."

If he was surprised, he didn't show it. He only smiled wider, somehow.

"Might you want to buy him?" he asked, turning the question to me.

"I might," I said.

"I see," he said. "Well, why didn't you buy him inside then? During the sale? You had opportunity."

"My brother said I shouldn't," I said, in honesty. "I was intent on another horse, and he wanted me to make sure I had the

money for that."

"Uh huh. And, you got your other horse cheaper, then? So you have money left over?" he asked, and it seemed as though his

smile was mocking me. Sort of.

Instead of answering him, I said, "I'll give you twenty dollars for him."

"I paid twenty-five," he said, still smiling mockingly.

"I know." I had exactly twenty-three dollars left, after paying for Dark Commander, and then buying Brian and I's drinks. Well, twenty-three

dollars and some odd change.

"Oh, you know, do you?" he asked me.

"Yes. I was paying attention," I said, simply. "Will you sell him to me for twenty?"

"Why would I do that?" he asked me, then.

"Because you don't need him. You bought enough horses today to take to the kill yards," I said. "If you sell him to me, he

might have a chance."

"A chance for what?" he asked, as if he was talking about the color of grass, or the sky.

"A chance for anything," I said, trying to sound decisive, but yet not as if I was confronting him.

"I see," he said, again. I wondered if he was going to deny that he was a kill buyer, but he didn't. "Well, I have to say, little lady, I

admire your grit."

"Then, you'll sell him for twenty?" I persisted.

"I didn't say that," he said, and began to gather up the remnants of his lunch plate, and napkin. "I said, I admire your grit." He

stood up, and stepped the few feet to throw away everything in his hands.

"If I give you twenty-five, will you sell him then?" I asked, thinking that I would beg Brian for a few dollars to make up the

difference.

The man paused there, in front of me. "I figure I might let you have him for thirty-five," he said.

"You only paid twenty-five!" I reminded him. Which wasn't necessary, I knew. It just came out.

"A man has to make a profit," he said, and smiled at me again. "Otherwise, what sort of businessman would he be?"

I was suddenly angry. Furious. What a low class of human being he was! I had nothing left to lose, so I preceded to tell

him just what I thought of him. I kept my voice low enough, so not everyone around us would be able to hear. But, if they were close enough,

or if they were paying any particular special interest to us, it would have been obvious by my body language, I'm pretty sure.

"I don't know how you sleep at night," I accused. "I would think all those animals you send to their death would haunt you, and keep

you awake. Why don't you get a real job?" I held on tighter to the two bottles of pop, and said, "I should feel sorry for you, because you

have no soul. But, I don't."

I turned, and stalked away. By the time I got back to the truck and trailer, Brian was sitting in the driver's seat, but with the door open, and with his feet still

on the running board.

I went to hand him his bottle of Coke, and he took it, saying, "There must have been a long line," to point out that I'd been gone

long enough of a time.

I didn't answer that. I was still trying to rein in my emotions.

Brian tipped up his bottle of Coke and took a long swallow. "Ready to go?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said, and began to walk around to the other side of the truck.

"Hey," Brian said, and I paused, looking at him.

"What's wrong?" he asked me.

I lifted my shoulders in a shrug, not wanting to lie, but not wanting to tell him what had happened, either.

"You look funny," he said.

"Gee, thanks," I said, hoping to throw him off.

"It's not that hot out here," he said. "Your face is all red, and stuff. You feel okay?"

"I'm not sick," I said, in honesty. Then, I thought I was a little. Sick, I mean. Sick at heart. I figured the KB man wouldn't

give me the time of day, now that I'd reamed him like I had. Still, it was worth one more shot.

"Would you loan me twelve dollars?" I asked, in a rush of words. "I'll pay you back within a week."

Brian gave me a long look, his forehead wrinkling. "What's the twelve dollars for?" he asked me.

"To put with my twenty-three that I have left," I said, quietly. He was still studying me, waiting, and I bit my lip, and said, "To buy

that colt from the KB guy."

Brian's forehead unwrinkled, alright, but now his eyebrows were up. "Harlie," he said, in a long drawn-out way.

"I offered him twenty, but he wouldn't take it," I said. "Or twenty-five, either. He said he wants thirty-five."

"I told you no, did I not?" Brian reminded me, referring to when we'd been inside, at the auction, and I'd wanted him to bid on the colt.

"I thought you meant because I might not have enough money to buy Dark Commander," I said. "I didn't know you

were against me having him at all-" I let my voice trail off.

"You are gonna have enough to do," Brian said. "Adding a blind colt to the mix makes no sense at all."

I knew he was somewhat right, but I couldn't bring myself to agree with him. Not verbally. So, I said nothing. I just

looked at him.

"Do you think you can somehow cause there to be more than twenty-four hours in a day?" Brian asked, looking stern. "Not

to mention having another money-pit for all your income to go towards?"

It took a lot from me, but I managed to meet his eye, and then nod. "You're right about that part," I said.

Brian sighed a little, and then said, "Where is this thirty-five coming from, anyhow? He paid twenty-five."

"Yeah. But he says a man has to make a profit, or he'd be no sort of businessman," I quoted. "I told him what I thought of him, too."

"I'll bet you did," Brian said, sounding, I thought, as though he was not disapproving.

"I'm ready to go if you are," I told him, and went around to my side of the truck, to get in. Brian slammed his door closed,

and started the motor. We were pulling slowly out of the grassy parking areas, working our way around the other trucks and trailers,

and people walking around.

"I'm not tryin' to be a hardass, Harlie," Brian said, looking ahead, and not at me. I could hear the regret in his tone, and I knew

he was wishing that it could have gone differently with the colt.

"I know." I turned to look at his profile. "I understand, Bri."

"Well-" he said, as if he was going to continue to discuss it. Then, just then, we saw the KB guy, standing beside a massive

trailer, and waving his arms around, to direct the men who were working on loading the horses he'd bought.

"Shit," I heard Brian mutter, and I knew that he was cursing the fact that we were going to be passing right by the trailer with

the colt and all the other horses the man had bought, that were headed to their deaths.

"It's okay," I said. "I can handle it." And, I was determined to. I didn't want Brian to feel bad.

I had squeezed my eyes closed, so that I wouldn't see the trailer or the horses. Childish, I know. But, it was helping. Then,

I felt the truck come to a stop, and I opened my eyes. Brian was sitting there, his left arm dangling out the window, and just

watching, as the horses were herded into the trailer.

"What are you doing?" I asked, curious.

"Thinkin'," was his answer.

"About what?"

"About the difference between twenty-five and thirty-five," Brian said, which, to me, made no sense at all.

7

thanks for all the kind thoughts. My dad fell last Monday and broke his hip. He is 84. He had surgery last Tuesday, and is

recovering at home, but I am his caretaker for now. anyway, joy of joys, I got to write today!


	47. Madhouse

When Brian said that, the part about the difference between twenty-five and thirty-five, I studied him quizzically.

"Huh?" I asked.

"Just thinkin'," Brian said, again, still looking out his window at the semi-trailer, and all the men, and horses.

And then, with a swiftness that surprised me, he opened his door. "Stay here a minute," he told me, and got out.

He slammed the truck door, and began walking towards the man, the buyer, the KB guy.

I slid quickly over the truck seat, leaning out the driver's window, and calling after him. "Where are you going?"

He either didn't hear me, or he was too intent on his purpose, but he didn't answer me.

I watched as I saw Brian approach, and then reach the buyer, coming to a stop in front of him. There was too much noise, and I

was too far away to hear any of the conversation, so I struggled to understand the body language of both Brian and the other man.

Brian pushed his hat up further on his forehead, and began talking. I watched as he pointed, first towards the sale barn building, and

then towards the trailers where horses were being loaded. The KB guy started out seemingly relaxed enough, but then his stance seemed to

change. He pointed, too, back towards the trailers, and then he shook his head back and forth.

I saw Brian reach into his back pocket, and take out something. It was his wallet, I realized. I felt my heart began to hammer. No way.

No way! He held something out to the KB guy, and the other man laughed, and then said something. I wished that I had the

ability to read lips. Then the two of them walked away, on the other side of the trailer, and out of my range of sight.

"Oooo," I moaned, in frustration. What was Brian up to?

I couldn't wrap my head around the possibility that Brian might actually be buying the blind colt. My heart was pounding, I was so

excited, and anxious at the same time. I don't know how long it was exactly, that Brian came striding back towards the truck. I was so busy

studying his facial expressions for clues that I was still sitting in his spot, behind the steering wheel.

"Move over," he ordered, and I obediently slid over more to my own side.

He looked somewhat tense, but not angry, really, so I started questioning.

"What were you doing?" I asked.

"Just talkin' to a jackass," he responded.

"He is a jackass, huh?" I said in agreement.

Brian checked the rearview mirror, and then the side mirrors, before he pulled the truck out, and began to drive.

"Yeah. He's that, alright."

It seemed as though his demeanor was a bit subdued, at least for Brian it seemed to be. Something in me, a sense, I guess, told me

to stop asking questions. At least, for right then. By the time we were out onto the highway, heading towards home again, Brian sighed a

little. I don't think he even realized that he'd done it.

I slid across the seat to sit next to him, hooking my arm thru his. "It's alright," I said quietly. "Thanks for trying, anyway."

Brian gave me a side-ways glance. "What are you talkin' about?"

I shook my head at him. "I know what you were trying to do."

"Think you know everything there is to know, huh?" he countered, gruffly.

"No. But I know something about you," I told him.

"Yeah? What's that?" he asked, still sounding gruff.

"You're tough on the outside. But, inside-you're soft," I said, and gave his arm a squeeze.

"That's a damn fabrication," Brian said, and I smiled at his denial, and then we exchanged what was a look of regret on both our

parts, as we thought of that colt, and where he was going to end up.

7

Once at home, as Brian backed the trailer up, he told me he thought I should leave Dark Commander to himself for a couple of days,

in the corral. Thus, to give him a chance to get acquainted with his surroundings a bit, and let the other horses come up to sniff at him thru

the corral fence.

I agreed, but as he was opening the back of the trailer, so I could go in and have the horse back out, I asked him what he thought

of my putting Old Charley in there with Dark Commander. With Charley being so old himself, and also used to lots of situations from his life

with Doc G, I thought he might make a good 'first friend' for Dark Commander.

Brian agreed it was a good idea, and as I was leading him out of the trailer, family began to congregate. They were curious, I supposed, to see

this once famous race horse. I couldn't help feeling a little bit excited as Evan and Ford walked up first.

Evan rested his hand on Dark Commander's back, and I could tell he was already 'looking him over', at least somewhat.

"Isn't he pretty, Ford?" I prompted.

"Yeah," Ford said, in agreement. "He is."

Evan still hadn't said anything, so I looked to him, gauging his facial expression.

"What do you think, Ev?" I asked.

"I think he's gonna need a lot of care," Evan said, bluntly.

"I know," I said. "But what do you _think?"_

Evan ran his hand down Dark Commander's side, and the horse moved nervously.

"Somebody's been rough with him," Evan said, sounding regretful. "You're probably gonna have to go at it real easy."

I nodded in agreement, as Crane and Adam walked up.

"So this is him, huh?" Crane said, in greeting, reaching out a hand. At that, the horse took some steps back.

"He's a little nervous, I think," I said, making excuses.

"I imagine so," Crane said, as Evan and Ford walked back towards the barn.

My eyes swung to Adam. He hadn't said anything at all yet, and he hadn't attempted to pet the horse.

For some reason, it was important to me that Adam, if not like exactly, at least accept Dark Commander.

"What do you think of him, Adam?" I asked.

For a long few moments, Adam was quiet, looking at the horse, and then at me. "He's got a proud look about him," he said, when he finally

did speak.

I smiled at him. "That's what I think, too."

7

I turned Dark Commander into the corral, and made sure there was fresh water, and some hay for him to eat. I was trying to encourage him to

let me stroke his neck and head, but he kept stepping back.

Adam and Brian had both walked over to watch, and were leaning against the corral fence, their arms resting on the top rail.

"You ought to get him some of that senior feed, peach," Brian was telling me. "It might be easier for him for eat."

"Okay," I agreed, still stretching my hand out to the horse.

"What are you gonna call him?" Adam asked me. "Dark Commander's a pretty big mouthful."

"I don't know," I said, thinking. "Maybe just D.C., for short?"

Brian turned as Clare came out onto the front porch, and called to him. He waved at her, and then said, "Better go see what the boss wants."

When he'd gone, walking towards the house, Adam said, "D.C. sounds like a good way to shorten his name."

"Brian and I think he needs to have his teeth floated," I said, walking over to stand on the other side of the corral, near Adam.

"Well, you should talk to Ivy about that, then," Adam said.

"Yeah," I said, looking back out towards the horse. He was still just standing there, his head sort of down.

"I imagine having his teeth floated is just one of the many things he's going to need," Adam said, echoing what Brian had

said earlier.

"I know," I said.

Adam asked how much I'd ended up paying for the horse, and when I told him, he just nodded, and said, "Hmm," in a reserved sort of way.

"What time are you and Guthrie heading out tonight for your party?" he asked me then.

I scaled the corral, jumping down onto the other side, next to him. "I think we're probably going to leave by seven or so," I said. "It starts at

7:30, or around there."

He nodded again. "Curfew's eleven," he reminded me.

"Okay."

"You're gonna have to do somethin' about your skunk, soon, too," he added.

I realized that I hadn't put into action, or even really thought of, any further new housing for Pepe. He seemed happy enough in the horse stall

where he was at now. When I said that, though, Adam shot it down.

"That wasn't meant to be permanent. Remember?" he said.

I nodded reluctantly, and he said, "We never know when we might be needing that stall for a cow or a horse."

"Okay. I'll try to figure something out," I said.

After that, I had my outside chores to do, and taking care of Pepe. By the time I went inside, I was ready to relax a bit, but, no, there was

too much going on inside. Hannah had a fussy Isaac on one hip, and was busy stirring something in a bowl with the other hand. The sink was full of

dishes that needed washing, and Isaac's face was scrunched up in agony.

"Aw, what's wrong with Scooter?" I asked, going over and touching Isaac's cheek.

"His teeth are bothering him," Hannah said, reaching for the cookbook that was a few inches out of her reach.

"Want me to take him?" I offered, and when Hannah gave me a grateful nod, I took Isaac from her. Isaac wasn't particularly pleased at first. He fussed

louder, stretching toward Hannah.

"You want Mama, huh?" I said, patting the baby's back soothingly. I stepped away a little, and went to the back door, letting Isaac look out, thinking it

would distract him a little.

The phone began ringing, and Hannah went to answer it, stretching the phone cord back over so she could continue stirring, and looking at

the cookbook at the same time. She said 'hello', and began talking. From what I could tell, I thought it was someone from the flower shop, calling

about flowers for the wedding. Isaac began to fuss louder, and I went to the table, grabbing a pencil and searching for a notepad.

I wrote out the words, "has he had Tylenol" on the first scrap of paper I could find, and held it up in front of Hannah.

She nodded her head, in answer, and went on talking on the phone about the difference in price between daisies and other types of flowers.

I stepped outside so Hannah would be able to hear over Isaac's fussiness. Once outside, he settled down a bit, when I started walking around the yard,

pointing things out to him.

I don't know how much time had passed, but I headed back inside when Isaac was seemingly happier, and found Hannah preparing to hang

up the phone.

"I'll let Evan and Nancy know what you said," Hannah was saying. "And they can call you back, then. Alright? Okay, thanks. Bye."

She hung up the receiver, and turned to face me, blowing out her breath and making her bangs fly upwards.

"Whoo," she said.

"Long afternoon, huh?" I asked, with sympathy.

"Definitely." She went back over and began stirring the contents of the bowl again. "How was the auction? Did you get the horse?"

"Yes. I got him. He's in the corral," I said.

"That's great, sweetie. I'll get out there after supper to have a look at him," Hannah said.

"What are you making?" I asked, looking into the bowl. "Tuna salad?"

"Yep. I thought it would be something quick and easy, with everything that's happening around here tonight," Hannah said.

"It looks good," I said.

"What are you wearing tonight? To the party?" she asked.

"Just jeans and a t-shirt," I said. "Casual. You know."

"Mmm," she said, studying me. "And, you're feeling good about going with Kenny?"

I sensed that Hannah was getting at something more than just the question, but I just nodded.

"Yeah. It will be fun."

"Here, I'll take him," Hannah said, reaching out to take Isaac from me. "You can go up and get a bath, or a shower, to get ready for

tonight."

I thought longingly of the bathtub in Hannah and Adam's bathroom. "What about all the dishes?" I asked her, feeling as though I

should help her.

"It's alright. Nancy's coming over for supper. She'll help. You go get cleaned up."

"Okay." I paused at the bottom of the back stairs. "Where's Clare?"

"Upstairs, lying down. She's feeling rough today."

"Oh, no," I said. "The pills stopped working to help the morning sickness?"

"Nothing is a hundred percent effective, all of the time," Hannah said.

I headed upstairs, thinking I would take a bath as Hannah had suggested. I paused, at the stairs, leading up to the attic rooms.

I went up, pausing at the top.

"Clare?" I called out softly, thinking she might be asleep.

"Come on up," Clare said.

When I was standing at the top, I saw Clare then, sitting in the oversized recliner, her legs curled up underneath of her.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi, toots," she said, looking up at me. She was holding a cup of something in her hand. Tea, I supposed.

"You feel bad, huh?" I asked, with sympathy.

"Not one of my better days," Clare said, and attempted a smile. A smile which didn't quite come off.

"Can I do something for you?" I asked.

"No. Not unless you want to sit and talk to me for awhile."

"Sure," I said, and sat down in the other chair opposite of hers.

"Tell me about the auction," Clare said, and so I did. She was interested, and her face seemed to relax a little as she focused on

what I was saying. She offered to do a French braid in my hair after I'd had my shower.

I was just descending the bottom of the attic stairs when a football came flying past my head, tossed by Ford, and caught at the other

end of the hallway by Guthrie.

"Hey!" I said, in complaint.

"Watch out," Guthrie ordered.

I went to my bedroom, and got out the clothes I was planning to wear, and then headed to the bathroom, thinking I would take a

shower instead of a bath. Time had slipped away. The football again sailed past my head, and I said, "Children, children," in a haughty tone,

and then shut the bathroom door really quickly.

I stayed in the shower longer than I should have. I knew with a certainty that I was using all of the available hot water, if I didn't hurry up

and get out.

There was a pounding on the door. "Come on, Har!" Guthrie was hollering.

"I'm getting out!" I hollered back.

"I gotta get ready, too, you know," Guthrie was saying.

"Okay!" I shouted.

By the time I got out, dressed, but my hair springing up in wet curls, Guthrie was waiting at the door, a towel over his shoulder.

"You better have left some hot water for me," he muttered.

I went to retrieve my hair brush, and came face to face with Clare coming back out of my bedroom.

"Ready for me to do your hair?" she asked me.

"Sure, if you're feeling better," I said, eyeing her.

"I am, for some reason." She sighed. "It's so weird, how it comes and goes like it does."

We sat on my bed, and she did my hair in the promised French braid, and then offered to do my makeup for me.

She was putting on some eye shadow for me when Ford came to the door.

"Kenny's here," he said.

"Already?" I asked.

"Yeah. Guess he's gonna eat here," Ford said, and was gone again.

"Wow," I said, under my breath.

When I got downstairs, to the living room, Clare beside me, Kenny was sitting on the sofa, opposite Brian, and Hannah, and Adam, holding Isaac on his lap.

Kenny stood up when I came into the living room.

"Hi," he greeted me.

"Hi," I answered.

I guess he read the questioning look I was giving him, because he said, "I know I'm early. I was gonna see if you wanted to

go out to eat before the party."

"Oh," I said, looking at him, and then towards Hannah. Without saying anything, I was wondering if anybody would mind if we

did that. "Is it alright?" I asked, in a general way, looking at all three of them.

"You're welcome to eat here," Adam said, looking at Kenny.

"It's nothing fancy tonight," Hannah said. "Just cold things. But, we'd like it if you did, Kenny."

I swung a look back at Kenny. I couldn't tell what he was thinking, really.

"We can eat here," I said. "And then go."

He nodded. "Okay." And then, to Hannah, he said, "Thank you, Hannah."

So, we all trooped into the kitchen, and everybody found a spot. It was a tight squeeze around the table, adding Nancy now, and then Kenny, too.

But, nobody seemed to mind. Supper was rowdy as usual, and as soon as he'd finished eating, Guthrie excused himself and got up, saying he

was going to pick Kristin up.

"I'll see you guys at the party," he said to Kenny and I.

"No drinking," Adam said, as Guthrie was pushing in his chair to the table.

"No drinkin'," Guthrie echoed. He grabbed another roll from the center of the table, and went out the back door, calling out a 'goodbye'

to everybody.

"I'm going, too," Ford said, getting to his feet and pushing in his chair.

When Ford had gone, Evan and Nancy got up, and went outside, holding hands as they went. So, it was a smaller group left now, at the

table, and Crane got up to start running hot water into the sink for the dishes.

Kenny was finishing what I thought was his fourth sandwich, at least, and he said, "It was real good. Thank you," in a general way.

"You're welcome," Hannah said, and smiled at him. After that, she asked him how his mother was, and all that sort of thing. I got up,

taking my plate and glass to the sink.

I paused, with my hands on the back of my chair. "We should be going," I said, and Kenny obligingly got to his feet, and scooted his

chair up.

"Have fun," Hannah said, and Clare added, "Yes, have a good time."

I said okay, and Kenny and I walked to the living room.

Adam was behind us, which didn't surprise me, really.

"Temperatures supposed to drop tonight," he said. "Better take a jacket."

"Okay," I said, and reached for my jacket that was hanging on the wall.

I was shrugging into it, and Kenny held one arm of it for me.

For a long moment, it was quiet there, in the living room, just the three of us. I don't know if Kenny knew it or not, but I could

tell Adam had something to say.

"What I told Guthrie earlier, the same goes for you," Adam said. "No drinking."

To somebody, just listening, they might think Adam was just cautioning me. And, he was. Very definitely. But, he meant it for

Kenny, too.

"We won't," I said, in reply.

I caught a look between Adam and Kenny, then. An intense one.

"You have my word," Kenny said, quietly.

Adam nodded, briefly. "Alright. Drive safely," he said.

"I will," Kenny said. He went to the door, opening it and standing back so I could go in front of him.

"Bye," I told Adam, meeting his eyes for a moment or so.

"Bye. Have fun," he said.

When we were finally on our way, driving down the driveway, and out onto the road to head to Murphys, I asked Kenny if

he minded that Adam was so intense, and protective.

"Heck, no," Kenny said. "I'm darn lucky to be goin' out with you. He just wants me to know that for a fact, that's all. I don't blame

him."

I looked at him, surprised at what he'd said. He grinned at me, in the old-Kenny way.

"You look like a million bucks tonight," he said.

7


	48. Brawling

Kenny and I talked about casual stuff on the way to the party. The lunches that the school cafeteria had been serving lately. Evan and Nancy's

wedding that was coming. My new horse. Stuff like that.

When we pulled up onto the street leading to Maxie's house, there were trucks and cars parked all along, on both sides. As Kenny found a place

to park, we could see the yard set up with a badmitten net, and kids swarming around.

"Lots of people here already," Kenny said, in conversation.

"Uh huh," I said in reply, and then I looked over at him. He'd sounded a little funny, I thought. I wondered if he was nervous. Surely not. "It should

be fun," I said.

"Yeah," he said, in agreement. He smiled at me, and I thought I must have been mistaken about hearing nerves in his tone.

We got out, and began walking the distance to the yard. Lori saw me, where she was standing with Trent, and she waved, and

walked over to greet us. Trent walked over, too, and after that, we started talking to other kids, as well. Guthrie and Kristin arrived a few

minutes later. It looked to me as though Kristin had been crying. Her eyes were all red and puffy looking. I gave her a questioning look, and she

shrugged her shoulders at me, in an 'I'll tell you later' sort of way. She joined in on the game of batmitton and she and Lori and I were on the

same side. Everyone was laughing so much that we kept missing shots.

Later, everybody gathered around the fire pit in the yard, and were roasting hot dogs and marshmallows. I was having fun. It was cooling

off by now, and couples started getting more cozy. Trent had his arms wrapped around Lori from behind, and Guthrie was sitting beside Kristin, his head

bent close to hers.

We were done with our eating by now, and as couples began to separate, hand in hand, to find spots around the fire, Kenny held

out a hand to me. "Wanna sit over here?" he asked me.

I took his hand, and we found a spot on the benches just down from Guthrie and Kristin. When we'd sat down, he let go of my hand, and didn't try

to put his arm around me or anything.

It was quieter now, with all the kids just sitting around and talking, but it was relaxing. And fun. I'd had a moment or so earlier with Kristin in private.

I'd asked her if she was okay, or what was wrong. She told me that it had to do with Frank, and then let go with the fact that her mother had let Frank

begin to spend the occasional night here and there.

"Mom's already acting different," Kristin said. "Like she used to, before he went to jail. Like she only cares what he thinks again."

"Oh, no," I said, feeling sympathy, and also outraged. What in the heck was wrong with Kristin's mother?

"Guthrie said I could stay over at your house tonight," Kristin went on. "Do you think that would be alright?"

"Sure, it's alright," I said.

"Nobody will mind?" Kristin went on, sounding unsure. "With all the wedding stuff going on and all?"

"Nobody will mind. You know they won't," I assured her.

I was still sitting beside Kenny later on, while he and Trent were talking. I was just watching the fire, and enjoying the smoky smell. I'd had

a couple of Cokes already, and was sipping on my third one when I noticed that the crowd of kids was getting larger.

Guthrie leaned across Kristin to say to Kenny and Trent, "Look who's here."

I looked, but I couldn't figure out who Guthrie was talking about. There were only the lights from the porch shining out into the yard, and

then the firelight. So some of the shapes of people standing were just that. Shapes.

"I see 'em," Trent said, in answer to Guthrie.

"Who?" I asked, but neither one of them answered. I looked to Kenny, to see if he was paying attention. He was. He was looking off towards

those shapes.

"Maybe it'll be okay," Trent said.

"Maybe," Guthrie said.

The shapes stepped closer to the bonfire. I recognized some of the boys who'd been bad-mouthing Kenny, giving him a hard time at school. They were

with girls who I didn't recognize, and they were drinking. Maxie was following after them, and her boyfriend, Hank, was behind her.

"There's no alcohol, guys," Maxie was telling them.

"Yeah, there is," One of the boys said. "Right here!" He held up his bottle of beer, as if he'd made a really funny joke.

"My parents are inside-" Maxie was saying. I could tell she was getting worried.

"Come on, guys," Hank said, trying to help Maxie. "Max promised her parents nobody would bring any beer."

It was while this was going on, that the guys seemed to focus on who was sitting around the fire.

"Well, look who's here," the one named Mike said. "The convict himself."

It took me a full few moments to realize that he was addressing himself to Kenny. Instantly, I felt my stomach tighten in nerves.

"Take a walk, Mike," Guthrie said, from his spot on the bench. "Get lost."

"I'm not talkin' to you, McFadden," Mike said. He stationed himself directly in front of Kenny. "I'm talkin' to jail-boy here."

I felt Kenny's tense up beside me, but he didn't say anything. He just sat there, starting at the fire, and not at Mike.

Trent stood up, despite Lori's attempts to pull him back down again. "You need to go," Trent said.

"Not talkin' to you, either, Trent," Mike said.

"That's right," another boy said, stepping up beside Mike. Rick, that was his name. He was a senior, too.

"I just wanna know, how does it feel, bein' the shame of the whole town?" Mike said, to Kenny.

Still, Kenny was silent. I could tell he was tense, and his fingers were clenched. I knew from what Guthrie had said, that Kenny had to report

to a probation officer every couple of weeks, and that he wasn't allowed to get into any trouble at all.

I know Maxie was saying she was going to get her father from inside, and Guthrie stood up, standing alongside of Trent.

"I asked you a question, Ken-neee," Mike said, stretching out Kenny's name in a taunt. He kicked the toe of Kenny's boot.

"Shut your face," Guthrie said, stepping closer to Mike.

"Or what?" Mike challenged.

"Or I'll shut it for ya," Guthrie said.

"And if he doesn't, I will," Trent echoed.

"Leave it alone, guys," Kenny said. "I'll just go." He stood up, and so I did, too.

After that, everything happened so fast. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maxie running towards the house, and other kids crowding around,

watching.

I took Kenny's hand, in a sign of support, and said, "Why don't you children get home to bed? You might be too sleepy for preschool on Monday," to

Mike and the other boy.

"Listen to the bitch," one of the girls said. The one that was clutching at Mike's arm.

"Let's go," Kenny said, and began to step around the boys standing in front of him.

"You gonna let your buddies answer for you?" Mike asked Kenny, and then he shoved Kenny, right in the center of his chest. It caused Kenny to

take a couple of steps backwards, and then Guthrie and Trent flew at the other two boys, and there were just bodies rolling around on the grass.

I kept thinking that they were going to roll into the fire. I could just picture Guthrie bursting into flames.

Some of the girls were screaming, and there was lots of yelling. I could see Kenny, trying to pull Guthrie off of Mike, and then Maxie's father was

there. Yelling that he was going to call the deputies.

I saw the other boy land a fist to Kenny's face just then. In retaliation, all I saw Kenny do was hook his foot behind the boy's, which caused him to

land on his butt on the ground. Rick came up ready to fight again, but Guthrie stood in front of Kenny now.

Mike and his friend, and the girls they were with made a hasty retreat at this point. Going to the street, and climbing into a car.

And then, roaring away. Maxie's parents were questioning Guthrie, and Trent, and Kenny, too, asking if they were alright.

Maxie's mother was insisting that all three of the boys go inside, so they could look over their faces.

Both Trent and Guthrie were refusing, though politely.

"No, ma'm, thank you," Guthrie was saying. "We'll tend to stuff at home."

"But, this is just terrible," Maxie's mother said, wringing her hands together.

"I'm sorry for the trouble," Kenny said. He reached up and brushed at the bottom of his ear.

"It wasn't their fault, mom," Maxie was saying. "I told you-the other boys started it all-"

"Yes, yes. I still feel responsible," Maxie's mother was saying.

"Maybe we had ought to give the sheriff a call," Maxie's father said. "Let him know-"

"I hate to do that," Maxie's mother said.

And inside, I was thinking the same exact thing. I didn't want the sheriff to be called. Then, there would be all sorts of questions, and

I didn't want Guthrie, or Kenny, either, to get into trouble. And, even though they hadn't started the fight, it could still go badly.

"Those boys should be held accountable," Maxie's father maintained.

I could sense Kenny stiffening again, and he rubbed his hands on the sides of his jeans. "It's alright. Please don't call the sheriff," he said.

I thought that was an odd way for him to express it, and gave him a puzzled side glance. I knew he wasn't supposed to get into any trouble, but, surely,

if it hadn't been his fault, wouldn't it be alright?

"I guess it's a case of too much beer, and too much mouth, huh," Maxie's dad said, sounding more jovial.

"Yeah," Kenny said.

"You boys need to be looked over," Maxie's mother said, again.

"We'll head home," Guthrie said, and after that, the six of us said our goodbyes. Guthrie and Kristin, Trent and Lori, and Kenny and I.

Most of the other kids that were still there, gathered around the fire, were supportive, and saying that the other two boys had been

real jerks. By our respective vehicles, under the street lights, the six of us gathered together. I saw, even in that poor lighting, that Guthrie's

eye was beginning to swell, and there was blood dripping from Kenny's ear. Trent's shirt was torn and his cheek was puffy.

"Look at you," Lori was saying, reaching up to touch Trent's cheek.

"I'm okay," Trent said, taking her hand and holding it.

"So, what's the plan now?" Trent asked, looking at Guthrie.

"Head home, I guess," Guthrie said.

"Lots of questions at home," I said.

"Yeah," Guthrie agreed, sounding regretful.

"None of you did anything wrong!" Kristin said, with spirit.

"Yeah, we can all back that up," I added.

Trent and Lori left after a few more minutes, to take Lori home. Lori said she probably wouldn't say anything at home about what had happened.

Her dad is real strict, and tends to come unglued easily. Even though Lori hadn't been hurt or caused any trouble, he would likely react harshly.

"I'll back you up if you need me to," she told the rest of us. "But, if I don't have to say anything to my dad, I'd rather not-"

Trent was telling her it was okay, not to worry about it, and the rest of us seconded that.

That left the four of us standing there, leaning against the front of Guthrie's truck.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"I dunno. After ten, maybe," Guthrie said.

"Here," Kristin said, peering at her watch in the lamp light. "Yes, it's 10:30 or so."

"Curfew's eleven," I reminded Guthrie.

"Yeah, we'd better head on, then," Guthrie said, still sounding reluctant.

He turned to Kenny. "I'll take Har on home with me, so you don't have to drive all the way out there."

Kenny looked at Guthrie and then to me, in the lamplight. "I'll go along with you over to your house," he said. "If it's alright with you. I

wanna clean up a little bit, in case my mom's up. She'll get upset if she sees me like this."

"Sure, it's okay," Guthrie agreed.

So he and Kristin went to his truck, and Kenny and I to his. We were following Guthrie, past the Dari Kurl, which was packed

with teenagers. I saw Kenny swipe at his ear again, and I said, "Do you have any Kleenex or anything in here? You could use that to

hold on your ear-"

"There might be some in the glove compartment," he said.

So I rooted around in the glove compartment, mostly feeling my way, and finally found some pieces of tissue.

I handed them to him, and he drove with one hand, and held the tissue on his ear with the other.

"The part about cleaning up before I see my mom, that's true," Kenny said. "But, I also wanted to still take you home."

"It's okay," I said. "I mean, that's fine."

"I should have known better, about tonight," he said, then.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I knew how some of the guys feel about me," he said. "I shouldn't have come."

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

"I just shouldn't have," he said, again. "I shouldn't have put you in that sort of position."

"You didn't put me in any position," I said, stressing the word 'put'. "I asked you to go tonight because I wanted to go with you. And, what

happened was not your fault. Don't say that it was!"

In the darkened truck cab, Kenny reached over and took my hand in his. He squeezed it, and then held it the rest of the way home. We followed

Guthrie up our long driveway. There was a light still on downstairs in the house, and one upstairs we could see, too.

As we parked and got out, the four of us started up the front porch steps.

Once inside, I fully expected to see Adam, or Brian, or somebody, sitting in the living room, waiting up for us to come home. But, the living

room was vacant, the lamp had been left on, and there were newspapers and glasses left on the coffee table. Remnants of the evening with

those at home.

I closed the door behind us, shutting it quietly. According to the big clock above the mantel, it was 10:52.

Guthrie led the way to the kitchen, where we turned on the lights, and he began to get ice out of the refrigerator freezer. His eye was really swollen

by now. Kenny, meanwhile, was dripping blood thru the tissue that he still held to his ear.

"Sit down here," I told him, motioning to a chair. I wet a dishcloth, and handed it to Kenny to use, while Kristin began putting ice cubes

in a towel to give to Guthrie.

"Is everybody in bed?" Kristin asked, in a near whisper.

"No. They wouldn't go to sleep until we were home," I said. "Somebody, at least, is still awake."

"Oh," Kristin said, looking nervous. "Are they going to be mad? Should we wait until morning to tell them? I mean, let them see your eye in the

morning?" She was looking at both Guthrie and I in question.

"No. We need to tell them about it tonight," I said, and Guthrie gave an agreeing nod of his head.

"Yeah," he said.

"I'll go," I offered. "While you put ice on your eye." I paused to peer at Kenny's ear. "We better let Hannah or Clare look at your ear, too. It's still

bleeding."

I left the trio of them in the kitchen, and went up the back stairs. Passing by the ladder leading to Brian and Clare's attic rooms, I could

hear low voices. I paused, looking towards Adam and Hannah's room. I couldn't see any light coming from underneath the door. I went up the

attic ladder stairs nearly to the top, and then paused, again. I could hear Clare's voice, soft, and then Brian's, deeper, but still low.

"Bri?" I said, in a loud whisper.

The voices halted, and immediately I heard Brian speak. "Harlie?" He came over to the landing, looking down at me.

"Home, huh?" he said. "Everything okay?"

"Not really," I said. "Can you come down to the kitchen?"

I saw his expression change to concern instantly. "Yeah," he said, and as I went down, he was right behind me. Clare, wrapping a robe around herself,

followed, too. The three of us stood there in the hallway.

"What is it?" Brian asked.

"There was a fight. Some boys-they tried to start something with Kenny."

"Guthrie hurt?" he asked.

"Not too bad. His eye-" I said.

"Police?" Brian asked, then.

"No."

"Alright." He looked down the hall. "Go on and get Adam."

"Okay." I paused again, looking at Clare. "Kenny's ear is bleeding-"

"I'll look at it," Clare said, sounding calm and capable.

They started towards the stairs, and I went now towards Adam and Hannah's room. The door was closed, and I listened for voices, but

heard nothing. I didn't want to knock, since I didn't want to wake Isaac up. I opened the door, just a bit. The bathroom light was still on, shining

into the bedroom. Isaac was sleeping in his crib, in his customary position, with his butt up in the air, and Hannah was sleeping, her arm

over her forehead. Adam was laying in the bed, too, but he was reading a magazine, using the bathroom light to see by.

"Hey," he greeted me, softly, laying the magazine aside. "Cuttin' it close to curfew."

I motioned to him, to come out into the hallway, without saying anything. He got up, and came out into the hallway, closing the door

softly behind him.

"What's wrong?" he said.

I repeated what I'd told Brian, about the boys starting something with Kenny, and that Brian was already downstairs.

Adam's jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything, he just ushered me ahead of him and we went downstairs.

When we got down to the kitchen, Clare was leaning down, tending to Kenny's cut ear, and Guthrie was sitting atop the kitchen counter,

while Brian was using his fingers to pry Guthrie's eyelid open.

Kristin was standing to the side, looking pale and nervous.

Adam went immediately over to stand beside Brian, looking at Guthrie. "Just your eye?" he asked Guthrie.

"Yeah."

Adam looked to Kenny, then. "Need stitches?" he asked Clare.

"I don't think so," Clare said. "I think we've got the bleeding stopped now." She reached for antibacterial cream from the medical kit on the

kitchen table.

"Alright," Adam said, surveying all of us. "What exactly happened? In detail."

"This was my fault," Kenny said, from his spot at the table. HIs voice was dull, but strong, and he met Brian and Adam's eyes.

7


	49. Goodbye, and hello again

"No, it wasn't," Guthrie denied, while at the exact same moment I said, "It was not!"

Our voices chimed together across the kitchen.

Brian handed the ice wrapped in the towel to Guthrie. "Hold that on that eye."

Guthrie took it, and pressed it to the swollen eye.

"Let's try again," Adam said. "What happened?"

All three of us started talking at the same time. Kenny, Guthrie and I.

"Stop," Adam said, holding up a hand. "One at a time. Guthrie, you start."

Crane had come down the back stairs, and was standing there, just beside Kristin.

"These two guys showed up at the party," Guthrie began. "They're the ones that have been givin' Kenny a rough time, and they

started in as soon as they got there. They were lookin' for a fight. Shootin' off their mouths for no reason."

"Words strong enough to fight over?" Adam asked.

"No!" Guthrie said. "Kenny even said he'd leave, but then Mike shoved him-for no damn reason!"

"So then it was fisticuffs, huh?" Adam said.

We all looked at Adam, and he and Brian exchanged glances. Clare, meanwhile, was putting a small bandage at the back of Kenny's ear.

"So two of them and two of you, huh?" Brian asked.

"And Trent," Guthrie added.

"Trent okay?" Crane spoke up from where he stood.

"No worse off than Kenny and me," Guthrie said.

"Where were Maxie's parents?" Adam asked, sounding tense.

"Inside the house," I said. "She went in to get her dad, and he came out and started yelling that he was going to call the sheriff."

"But, he didn't, huh?" Brian asked.

"No," I said.

Clare went over to take the ice from Guthrie's hand to look over his swollen eye. "That's going to be a beauty," she said. "Real pretty and

colorful." She handed him back the ice, and he lifted it to his eye again. Clare was smiling, and I knew she was trying to lighten the mood and

be silly. At that moment, as I was at many, many others, I was so grateful that she was a part of our family.

"Who are the boys?" Adam asked.

"Rick Stone, and Mike Eastwood," Guthrie said. "But it's mostly Mike that starts it. Right, Ken?"

Kenny gave a silent nod, looking defeated.

Adam turned his attention to Kenny. Kenny had been sitting quietly for the last few minutes now. I noticed then, in the kitchen lights, that blood had

dripped all over his shirt.

"They've been givin' you a pretty rough time, huh?" Adam asked him.

Kenny gave a nod. "Some," he said.

"A lot," I corrected.

Crane came on into the kitchen, and came over to sit down at the kitchen table. "Have you talked to your folks about it?" he asked.

"No," Kenny said, shaking his head.

"Why not?" Brian asked.

Kenny hesitated. "Well, dad's still not feelin' real strong yet, and I didn't wanna worry my mom-"

"Honesty, Kenny," Crane said, quietly, from his spot across the table from Kenny. "Remember?"

Kenny let his shoulders slump a little, and then nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

"Give you mom a chance," Crane advised. "She might be stronger than you think she is."

"And, even if it's somethin' like this, that's gonna upset them, they still have a right to know," Adam told Kenny.

Kenny sighed, and nodded again.

For a few long moments there was silence in the kitchen, and then Adam said, "Might as well have a pot of coffee," and went over to

begin filling the coffee pot with water.

"I shouldn't have gone tonight," Kenny said. "It's like I told Harlie-I knew there might be trouble, and I just shouldn't have gone. It wasn't

right to put Harlie, or Guthrie or Trent, or anybody, in the position to have to defend me."

"Bullshit," Brian said, from where he was leaning against the counter next to the sink. "It doesn't sound as though you went looking

for a fight. Did you?"

"No, I didn't," Kenny said. "But-"

"Then you had every right to be at the party, just like anybody else," Brian said.

I gave Brian a grateful look.

"Were they drinking?" Crane asked. "The other guys?"

"Yeah. They were," Guthrie answered.

Adam switched on the coffee pot, and turned to look at all of us. I knew before he spoke what he was going to ask.

"Were any of you drinkin'?" he asked.

Kenny was shaking his head, and Adam looked to Guthrie.

"No, I wasn't drinkin'," Guthrie said. "I told you I wouldn't, and I wasn't."

"I'm still gonna ask," Adam told him. He looked at me, and raised an eyebrow in question.

"No," I said.

And then, he surprised me, and probably Guthrie, and very definitely Kristin, when he leaned forward a bit to where he could see

Kristin at a better angle.

"What about you?" he asked her.

You would have thought that Kristin had been around our family enough over the last year and a half to have not been startled by having such

a question put to her by Adam. Or Brian, or anybody. But, she was plainly startled. She'd been standing there, all pale and quiet this whole time, and

now she looked as though she might bolt like a skittish fawn.

She shook her head. Quickly. Back and forth in a jerky motion. "No, Adam," she said, in a voice barely above a whisper.

"That's good," he said, sounding kind.

After that, Clare got out some cookies, and fruit, and the gallon of milk from the refrigerator, and started pouring glasses of milk. Adam drank his

coffee while Brian and Crane joined us kids in drinking milk. Crane had coaxed Kristin over to sit down next to him at the table, and Guthrie sat on her

other side.

"Is your mama gonna be worried about where you are?" Adam asked, looking at Kristin again. "I don't know if you're gonna be able to see out of that

eye to drive her home, are you, Guthrie?"

"Kristin was gonna spend the night here," Guthrie said.

Immediately, Kristin spoke up. "If that's alright with everybody, that is-"

"You're always welcome," Adam told her. "You know that."

Kristin gave him a slight smile.

"Does your mother know you're staying?" Crane asked her then. "Or do you need to go call?"

"She knows."

"What about you?" Brian asked Kenny. "You plannin' on stayin' the night?"

"Yeah, Kenny, you can," Guthrie said. "It's cool."

"No, I'll go on home," Kenny said. "Thanks, though." He shot a glance at Crane. "And, I'll talk to my folks tomorrow. About, you know, what's been goin' on,

with those guys at school."

"Good deal," Crane said, in approval.

Shortly after that, Kenny stood up, and said he would be heading home. The kitchen clock said it was nearly 12:20.

"I'll talk to ya tomorrow, Ken," Guthrie said, from where he sat at the table.

"Okay. Thanks, everybody," Kenny said, taking in everybody. He looked to Clare. "Thanks, for patchin' me up and all-"

"You were an easy patient," Clare said, smiling at him. "No problem."

"Goodnight," he said, and then his eyes lit on me for a moment.

"I'll walk out with you," I said, and we walked out of the kitchen, and thru the living room.

At the front door, he opened the wooden door, and then stood, with his hand on the screen door. "Thanks again for askin' me to go with you

tonight, Harlie," he said.

"It was fun," I said. "At least it was fun until those jerks showed up-"

"Yeah." He paused, looking as though he wanted to say something, but then didn't. He opened the screen door and went out onto the porch, and I

stepped out behind him.

"Well," he said.

"Yeah," I said.

"I'd have to go back to the detention place if I got into any trouble," he said then. "Or maybe even real juvenile hall."

"I know. Guthrie told me," I said.

"I just didn't want you to think that I was being a coward or anything, not fightin' back tonight," he went on. "Or lettin' Trent and Guthrie

fight for me-"

"I wouldn't think that," I said. "I didn't think that."

"I just can't do anything to have to go back there, Harlie." There was a tone of desperation in his voice. "You know?"

"I know. I understand. I don't think you were being a coward, or anything like that. I thought it was great-when you hooked your

foot around Rick's, and he fell on his butt like that."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I learned that in karate when I was seven. You just hook your foot behind, like this-" he said, and put his foot behind mine a bit.

"And, then, you just do this, and bam-down they go."

I looked up at his face, which was suddenly so very close to mine.

"I'm not really gonna do it," he said, with a Kenny-type of grin at me in the porch light.

"You'd better not," I warned him. "I might have to punch you if you knock me on my butt."

And then we stood there, silently, just looking at each other.

"It's okay," I told him. "If you want to kiss me."

"Yeah. I want to," he said, and leaned down to kiss me. It was light. And sweet. He raised his head to look at me.

I jumped, startled, when a voice came thru the screen. "Bedtime, Harlie. Goodnight, Kenny."

Ah. Brian, again.

Kenny smiled at me, and I smiled back.

"So, I'll see ya," he said.

"Yeah. See you," I echoed.

7

I stepped inside the front door, watching as Kenny started his truck up, and drove down the driveway. I had a sudden thought, and

said, "I'm gonna go check on the horse real quick."

"It's late," Brian said, in protest. "He's fine. I kept an eye out on him during the evening while you were gone to your party."

"Did he eat?" I asked, hesitating, my hand on the door.

"Some. You'll have to get Ivy over here to float his teeth."

"Okay. I just wanna check on him real quick. Okay?"

"Two minutes," Brian said.

I ran across the yard, to the corral, lit only partially by the pole light in the yard. Dark Commander was over in a corner of the corral.

He raised his head to look towards me when I climbed up on the corral.

"How are you doing, huh, boy?" I asked him softly.

I went back towards the house, after telling the horse that I would spend time with him the next day.

Once inside, I turned off the porch light, and Adam and was coming thru the living room, preparing to turn out the lamp.

"What are you doing outside?" he asked. "I thought you'd gone up to bed."

"Just checking on the horse," I told him.

"Well, get to bed," he ordered.

We walked up the stairs together. "Are we going to church in the morning?" I asked.

"I think Hannah's planning on it."

"Do I have to go?" I asked.

"When we go, we all go, sugar. You know that."

"I need to start working with the horse, though," I said. "And I've got homework-"

"We'll talk about it in the morning, and decide what's happening then," he said, and I had to be content with that.

I detoured thru the kitchen to do my shot, and then went upstairs to my bedroom. Someone had drug down the cot for Kristin, and she

was already asleep, covered to the top of her head with a blanket. I turned off the lamp, and felt my way across the floor to my bed.

What a day it had been.

7

I had trouble getting up the next morning. There was a lot of noise in the hallway, and I covered my head with my pillow, trying to muffle

the sounds. Finally, I gave up, sitting up and swinging my feet over the side of my bed. Usually, when Kristin stays over, I beat her up the next morning,

but not this morning. The blanket was folded neatly on top of the cot and it had been pushed against the other wall.

I pulled on a pair of worn jeans, and an old Hank Williams t-shirt, and carried my boots, heading downstairs.

I came upon Ford, talking on the telephone, near the bottom of the stairs, and I gave his shoulder a pat, as I stepped around him.

The kitchen was chaos. Nothing new about that. Isaac was pounding his spoon on the tray of his high chair, and Brian was standing at the

stove, turning pancakes. Hannah was taking a heaping plate of bacon out of the microwave, and setting it in the center of the table.

"Morning," she said, smiling at me.

"Morning."

I set my boots down near the back door. I went to get down a cup from the cabinet, and poured myself a cup of coffee. Passing behind Brian,

he said, "There's eggs, peach, or pancakes if you wanna wait for a few minutes."

"I'll eat eggs," I told him, and went to my seat, where Kristin was squeezed in between me and Guthrie.

I leaned over to get a look at Guthrie's eye. It looked worse than it had the night before. "You look horrible," I told him cheerfully.

"Thanks a lot," he said, in response.

I scooped some eggs onto my plate, and took a couple slices of bacon.

"Here's the jelly," Hannah said, passing the jar of grape jelly to me.

I took in her jeans and ruffled blouse. "We're not going to church?" I asked.

"No, not this morning. There's just too much to do-" she said, and turned to look towards Evan. "We thought we'd move that chair up to

your cabin today. Right, hon?" she added, looking down the table towards Adam.

"We can do it today," Adam said.

"Okay," Evan said.

Returning her attention to me, Hannah said, "I'm going to need your help today. We've got to start dusting all the high shelves in the living

room, and making sure we sweep down the walls. The wedding's almost here-" she shook her head, and took a drink of coffee. "I can't believe

it."

"I'll help, too," Kristin said,

"That would be great," Hannah said, smiling at her.

"Evan should have to do all that dusting," I said, shooting Evan a look across the table.

"I wouldn't want to take away the joy of it from you," Evan said, reaching for another piece of bacon.

I finished my eggs hurriedly. I had to start getting acquainted with Dark Commander. Plus, I had a ton of homework to do. And, now,

Hannah wanted me to help clean the house.

There was the sound of a horn honking outside, and Guthrie rose to his feet, going to look out the back door.

"It's Kenny," he announced.

"Didn't that boy just leave here a couple of hours ago?" Brian said.

I myself wondered what Kenny was doing here, so early, on a Sunday morning, but Guthrie said, "He's gonna help Evan and me

up at the cabin this mornin'. I called him a little bit ago. He can help move that chair, too."

"We need a score card to keep track of things around here," Crane said, drinking the rest of his orange juice, and getting up. "Tell him

to come in and have some breakfast, Guthrie."

7


	50. Family day

I, naturally enough, figured that Kenny was here so early because he wanted to see me. I mean, obviously he wanted to hang

out with me. He liked me. A lot. So, to say that I had a surprise in store would have been an understatement.

Guthrie called out to Kenny, and he came in, standing at the back door. He said, thanks, but no thanks, that he'd already eaten

breakfast at his house. He smiled at me in a 'hello', but then disappeared out the back door with Guthrie and Evan. I watched him go,

more than a little surprised.

I helped with the breakfast dishes, and then Hannah got busy, making some mints for the wedding. She'd never made them before,

and she wanted to practice before the actual wedding date came. Marie had made them, so she was coming over to help. As soon as

I'd finished the dishes, with Kristin's help, I escaped outside. going to the corral, armed with cut-up pieces of apples and carrots.

Dark Commander was in a corner of the corral, with his butt turned toward me.

I called to him, but he showed no response. I climbed up and over, dropping into the corral. I came up beside him, and held out a sliver

of apple. He eyed me, and accepted the sliver. Even though it was such a small piece, he seemed to drop bits onto the ground.

I figured I would talk to Ivy the next day after coming over to see about floating his teeth.

Marie came driving up, dust swirling behind her small hatchback car. She honked and then waved as she headed up the front

steps.

I went to get currycombs and brushes and spent the next hour grooming Dark Commander. I talked to him the whole time. I

saw Ford heading outside. He stopped beside his truck, tossing some things into the truck cab, and then came over to the corral, resting

his arms on the top.

"How's it going?" he asked me.

"Alright. Slow," I said. I laid the brush on the ground, and walked over to stand near him, on the other side of the corral. "Are you getting ready

to leave?"

"Yeah. I've gotta get back. I've got an early class tomorrow morning, and a mountain of homework to catch up on," Ford said.

"Oh," I said. I studied him. "Did you have fun last night? With Felicity?"

"Yeah. It was a nice night."

"What did you guys do?" I asked.

"We went bowling. And out to eat."

"That sounds fun," I said. I hesitated. "Do you think you're gonna keep seeing Felicity?"

"I think so. If she wants to."

"Oh." I wondered if Felicity had talked to him yet. About the last year, and having the baby, and then placing it for adoption.

Ford smiled at me. "We didn't really get to hang out this weekend," he said.

"No. We didn't," I agreed. I surveyed his sweet face, and felt regretful.

Ford noticed, and had his own look of regret. "We'll hang out the next time," he said.

"Next weekend?" I asked.

"Probably the next one."

"That's the wedding weekend," I reminded him.

"Well, I'm probably gonna come home a couple days before the wedding, to help out and stuff. We'll hang out, then."

"Okay," I said.

"Gonna hug me from in there?" he asked.

"I'll come out," I said, and climbed up and over, dropping to the ground. Ford wrapped his arms around me, and gave me a hug.

"You ought to come up to school sometime," Ford said.

Ford is in his second year at JFK University that's about two hours away from Murphys. It's a smaller college. He and I have talked before

about me coming up to visit the campus, but I've never made it there as yet.

"That would be cool," I said.

"You've got to start thinkin' about where you're gonna go," Ford said.

"I know," I said, in agreement. "Lately, though, everything's been so busy, I'm just doing day to day-"

"I know you're thinking of Davis," Ford went on. "But you ought to at least check out some of the other options."

"Well, when would I come up?" I asked. "I mean, when is a good time for you to show me around and all?"

"When I come home in two weeks, we can talk about it then," he said.

"You think we're gonna have time to talk about anything at all? With all the wedding chaos?" I protested.

"Well, we'll try," he said.

When Ford had gone, waving at me as he drove down the driveway, I felt momentary emptiness, like I always do when he leaves

to go back to college. I'd gone to get a halter out of the tack shed, deciding to try to work with Dark Commander that way. He let me put the halter

on, no problem, and I began to lead him around and around the corral. He kept his head down, as if he was merely humoring me, by walking along.

Old Charley came up to the other side of the corral fence, just watching. When I took the halter off of Dark Commander, I walked over to give

Charley a bit of the apple I had left.

"Maybe you can get thru to him," I told Charley. "I think he needs a friend."

Kristin and I ended up hiking up to the cabin after lunch. Lunch had been a sparse crowd at the table. Evan, Kenny, Guthrie and Adam were gone,

up at the cabin, working. Brian had come back and forth a couple of times, to retrieve tools or something, and then he and Crane left to go somewhere.

Hannah asked if we would take sandwiches and stuff up to everybody that was working at the cabin. So, packed with food, and carrying a thermos,

we prepared to go. I was going to take a four-wheeler up there, but I couldn't get it to start, so we went back inside and told Hannah we were

going to hike up. Still immersed with the task of preparing the mints, Hannah gave the customary cautions. Be careful, watch for snakes, go

straight to the cabin, take a walkie-talkie, all of that stuff.

As we were walking, carrying a picnic basket between us, both of us holding onto a handle, we finally got a chance to really talk.

She told me that Frank was living off and on at somebody's house in Angels Camp, sleeping on their couch, and then the rest of the time

he was staying at Kristin's trailer.

"Nothing's changed," Kristin said, sounding discouraged. "Mom just lets him stay when he wants to stay-and he's not working or anything-"

"I guess it's hard for him to find a job," I said. "After having been in jail, I mean-"

"He didn't have a job before he went to jail. Not a steady one, anyway. He has to report to a parole officer, but, I just don't understand why

my mom is like this. She can be such an idiot about Frank."

I wondered if it was too personal to ask, but then I went ahead and asked. "Are they, you know-sharing a bedroom?" I asked.

Kristin sighed heavily. "He stays in her room with her, so I guess they are. Having sex, I mean."

"Oh."

"He's so disgusting, I don't know what my mom sees in him," Kristin went on.

I really didn't know what to say. I wanted to make Kristin feel better, somehow, but what could I say that would accomplish that? The only thing

that would really make Kristin feel better would be if Frank fell into a hole someplace, and never came around her house, or her mom, again.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I know," Kristin said, with another sigh. "It helps so much, though, when I can be here, with Guthrie, and with you. And the whole family."

"You can stay tonight if you want," I offered.

"Maybe," she said. After that, we talked about other stuff. By the time we'd reached the cabin, we were both winded. It hadn't been easy, toting that

basket up the hill.

Guthrie and Kenny were outside, stacking bricks and picking up limbs that had blown down from the trees. They greeted Kristin and I with

enthusiasm. I would have liked to think that Kenny's effervescence was for the sight of me, but I'm fairly certain that it was more for the

contents of the picnic basket.

"Hey!" Guthrie said, dropping a brick and coming up to us. He gave Kristin a quick peck on the cheek.

"What'd you bring us?" Kenny asked, coming over to us. He grinned.

"All kinds of goodies," I said.

Evan appeared at the open doorway of the cabin, a tape measure in his hand. "Hey! Lunch!"

When we went inside, Adam was working on a door to the kitchen cabinets, and Kristin and I set the lunch up on the table. We had to move

a bunch of stuff first, and the table was covered with tools, and cups, and stuff like that.

Hannah had put some paper plates in the basket, and I set them around the table, and started pulling out the packed food.

Evan and Guthrie and Kenny were already eating as though they hadn't had food in a week, while Adam finished up what he was doing.

"Come on," I told Adam. "Before they eat it all, and there's nothing left."

"Just a minute," he said.

I went on and made a plate for Adam, with a couple of chicken legs, some potato salad, and pieces of watermelon. I poured some of the iced tea

from the thermos into a paper cup, and when he finally came over to sit down, I set it all in front of him.

"Thank you, sugar," he told me.

I was amazed at the transformation of the cabin. It was really like a-well, like a little home. There were two chairs, and a sofa that Hannah

had found for sale in the local newspaper. The stove was all cleaned up, and the bed was set up, with two dressers. The kitchen cabinets had

been redone, and I knew that Nancy had already put away some dishes and pans.

There were some throw rugs on the floor. I thought the whole room was really cheery looking. Homey.

"It's nice, Ev," I said.

Evan, finishing up the lunch he'd devoured, looked pleased at my comment. And proud.

"Yeah. I think it's nice, too," he said.

"Who has the best ideas in the world?" I prodded him, referring to the fact that the whole cabin thing had been my idea to begin with.

"Um, who is it?" Evan said, teasing, looking as though he was thinking hard. "I can't think of her name-but I hear she's-"

"Smart? Talented? The best sister in the world?" I prompted.

Evan got up, going to toss his plate into the trash can. He gave my braid a tug. "Pain in the butt?" he said.

"See if I lend you any more of my fabulous ideas," I threatened.

Kristin and I hung around for a while, doing what we could to help, but there wasn't much, really, left to do. The cabin was ready

for habitation by honeymooners. We all ended up leaving and heading home at the same time. Kristin rode on a four-wheeler with Guthrie, and

Evan rode the other one. He offered a ride to me, and to Kenny, but Kenny said no, that he'd walk down.

"What about you, Adam?" Evan asked. "Want a lift?"

"Naw, I'll walk back down," Adam said.

So, I walked, too, with Kenny, and Adam.

7

"Ford get off alright?" Adam asked me, as we walked.

"Yeah. He left right before we came up here," I said.

"That's good," Adam said.

After that, we talked about general things. Kenny asked Adam about some things, one of his dad's cows that was limping, things like that. Adam

answered that, and then in return asked about Kenny's dad and his cancer treatments.

Once we'd made it back down to the ranch, I saw that Nancy had arrived. Her car was parked neatly, next to Evan's. She was practicing, I thought,

feeling the urge to giggle. Marie was still here, as well.

Kenny was asked to stay for supper, but said he needed to get home, and help his dad with things.

He prepared to leave, peppered with thanks from everybody for his help that day. He gave me a glance and I could tell he wanted

me to walk him out. And get in a little kissing, as well, I figured. I would have, but Crane and Adam had gone out onto the porch, as well, so

I just told Kenny goodbye, and he said he'd see me the next day at school.

When he'd driven away, I turned to see both Adam and Crane watching me. Crane was standing, leaning against the porch railing, and Adam

was sitting in the porch swing, using the toe of his boot to move it gently.

"What?" I asked, looking at both of them.

"What goes on with young Kenny?" Adam asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"It seems as though he's real interested in you, all of a sudden," Adam said.

"It's not 'all of a sudden'," I protested, and then realized how that sounded.

"I mean, we dated last spring, remember?" I reminded him.

"I remember," he said.

"You don't mind me going out with him, do you?" I asked, feeling awkward. "I mean-because of what he did this summer? You don't hold

that against him, do you?"

That wasn't the right thing to have said. I could tell by the way Adam frowned at me.

"If I held anything against Kenny, you wouldn't have been allowed to leave the yard with him," he said.

"Okay," I said. "So, what then? You mind him being around here so much?"

"No, Harlie. Kenny's as welcome here as he's always been. I just wondered if you were goin' out with him-exclusively."

I smiled at that, and he frowned again. "What's funny?"

"Exclusive?" I repeated. "You mean, going steady? Nobody does that anymore, Adam. Crane knows that, right, Crane? Tell him."

"Leave me out of this," Crane said, holding up a hand. "If it was up to me, I wouldn't have you dating anybody at all."

"Ha, ha," I said.

I turned back to look at Adam again. I was quiet, studying him, and hoping that the conversation was going to die a natural death.

"When's Kristin heading home?" he asked, instead.

"I don't know," I said. "She might spend the night again-why?"

Adam and Crane exchanged a glance. One of those 'looks' that means that they have questions and concerns that haven't been spoken aloud.

"Things going on at home?" Crane asked me, low, so that he wouldn't be overheard, I knew, in case Kristin was near the doorway.

"Uh huh. It's Frank-her mom's letting him stay overnight again." I kept my own voice low, as well.

"Close that door," Crane told me, nodding.

I opened the screen, and pulled the wooden front door closed, and then stepped back out.

"So Frank's back in the picture again, huh?" Adam asked me.

"Yeah. Kristin says he alternates between staying someplace in Angels Camp, and her house," I said.

"Hmm," Adam said, looking serious.

"He doesn't have a job, of course," I added. "And Kristin just doesn't understand why her mom's so stupid.",

"Harlie," Crane said, in quiet reproof.

"That's Kristin's word, not mine," I defended. Then I shrugged. "But, I agree. Linda is an idiot. Why she would want that fat, overbearing

ass is totally crazy-"

"Harlie," Crane said, again, more firmly. "Don't be disrespectful."

"I'm stating my opinion," I said. "I thought I could do that. I'm saying it to you two, not to Kristin's mom, or anybody else."

"You can state your opinion, like this, with Crane and I," Adam said. "What Crane means is, even if you have set ideas about the choices

Linda's makin', it's not your right, or your place, to be so vocal about them."

"Alright," I said, meeting his eyes, and then Crane's.

"It sounds like it's rough again for Kris," Crane said, sounding regretful.

"Yeah. It pretty much blows," I said.

"You are sassy today," Adam said, but he had a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Marie came out onto the porch then, pulling the door closed behind her. "Am I interrupting a family conference?" she asked, smiling at

all three of us.

"Not interrupting," Adam told her. "And even if you were, you'd be a welcome part of it."

Marie fairly beamed, and ran her fingers down Adam's cheek in affection.

"Thank you for that," she said. "I've got to be heading home, and I wanted to tell all three of you goodbye."

"Couldn't leave without doing that," Crane said, and wrapped his arms around Marie.

She smiled up at him. "See you next time, tall man." When Adam stood up, she hugged him, too, and then turned to

me. "Give me a hug, my darlin'," she said.

When Marie had gone, roaring down the driveway, dust behind her, Adam said, "Well, it's about time for supper, I'd think."

"Homework all finished?" Crane asked me, as I followed Adam in, with Crane behind me.

I didn't want to say that I hadn't even begun my backlog of homework. No use in poking the bear. And, where homework is concerned,

Crane can definitely be a bear.

7


	51. Jitters

Supper was more subdued that usual. Clare wasn't feeling well, and mid-way thru the meal, she left her plate of mostly untouched food, and

excused herself. Brian watched her go, looking concerned. Even Nancy was less talkative than usual. She'd spent the day, she said, packing some of her

things, and helping her sister watch her kids.

Evan made a comment, which I felt was innocent enough, really, about how her sister took advantage of her. Nancy bristled, and

said that was not true at all.

Then she changed tactic, and said, "And, even if it is true, and she does take advantage, what else is she supposed to do? She has no

one else to help her."

At that, Evan said, "She'll have to find someone else to help her, won't she, in about two weeks, when you're not around all the

time?"

Nancy gave him a piercing glare, and finished her meal in silence. When Evan rested his arm across the back of her chair, just

touching her shoulders, she shrugged it off.

It would have been funny, I suppose, at some other time. But, I'd never seen Evan and Nancy so much as say one cross word to

one another. They were always so solid. No petty arguing or mind games between them. But, now, well, it was fascinating and horrible at the

same time.

When supper was over, and everybody was standing up, and helping to clear the table, and put food away, Nancy helped, beginning to

run hot water into the sink for the dishes.

I saw Evan go up, and rest his hand on her waist, in what I thought was a conciliatory gesture. Nancy shrugged his hand off, just as she

had his arm a few minutes earlier.

At which point, Evan, without another word, went quietly out the back door, letting the screen door flap shut behind him.

When the kitchen had cleared a bit, and all the males of the family had taken refuge in another room, Hannah rested a hand on

Nancy's shoulder.

"It's alright," Hannah said, quietly, soothingly. "It's just pre-wedding jitters."

And, at that, Nancy promptly burst into tears.

7

Hannah took Nancy off upstairs to talk to her in private, which left Kristin and I to do the dishes.

We were nearly done with that, when the phone began ringing. Someone in the living room answered it, and Crane reappeared

in the doorway to the kitchen.

"Phone for you, Kris," he told Kristin.

Adam, who was coming in, to refill his coffee cup, was just in time to hear Kristin say, "I don't want to go home if Frank's there."

Crane came over closer, to where Kristin stood, beside the sink, dishtowel in her hand. He put a hand on her shoulder, and that seemed

to be Kristin's undoing. Her last vestige of control.

"Please don't make me," she said, looking at Crane. And then to Adam, who looked as though he'd walked into a movie that he'd been

tricked into seeing. "Please?"

"Nobody's going to toss you out into the night," Crane said, sounding mid-way between seriousness and levity. "

"Okay," Kristin said, soundly relieved. "I can stay?"

Crane and Adam exchanged a look. One of 'those' looks.

"You're welcome to stay," Adam said, quietly. "If it's alright with your mom."

Kristin nodded. "Thank you," she said, and went towards the living room, to pick up the phone.

Left there in the kitchen, with just Crane and Adam and I, the air was crackly, both with quiet, and emotion.

"Holy smokes," Adam said, in a tone that suggested that was all there was to say.

"Some evening," Crane said, in apparent agreement.

Crane came over and gave me a slight push. "I'll finish these," he said. "You get going on that homework."

7

I worked on my homework for the next hour or more. Kristin had come upstairs, taken a shower, and then, because she didn't have any

of her own homework with her, just said she would ask Guthrie to take her early the next morning to school. So as, she could go by her house

and pick up her homework, and then work on it before school began for the day.

I asked her what her mom had said, and she shrugged. "She doesn't care what I do."

I wanted to tell Kristin that that couldn't be right. That her mother had to care. But, Linda's actions didn't really show that, and so I was just quiet.

"She said that I might as well stay here tonight if I wanted to, since Frank's spending the night there," Kristin went on.

"She said it like that?" I asked, aghast. "I mean, she knows how you feel about Frank, and she said to stay here, so-" I let my voice trail off.

"Pretty much so," Kristin said, pulling her hairbrush out of her bag, and beginning to brush out her long, blonde hair.

"Ah, Kris," I said, in sympathy.

"It's alright. I don't care," Kristin said.

"Yes, you do," I contradicted. "You know you do."

"Well, it doesn't do me any good to care, now does it?" she said, then, in what for Kristin was a snarky tone.

Immediately her face sort of crumpled. "I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay," I told her. "You're allowed to vent here, with me, and with Guthrie." I hesitated. "Do you want to talk to somebody?"

"Somebody here, you mean?" she asked.

"Well, yeah. Hannah, maybe? Or Crane? Or would that be too weird, talking to Crane about all of this?"

Kristin looked considering, and then said, softly, "I think I'd like to talk to Crane about it."

I wasn't surprised by her answer. "Want me to go get him?" I asked.

"Where would we talk at?" Kristin asked, looking nervous again.

"You could talk outside," I suggested. "On the front porch. It's always easier for me to talk to one of them when we're in the porch

swing. It's sort of soothing, I guess."

"Okay," Kristin said.

I left my homework spread across my bed, and the two of us went downstairs. Guthrie was doing his own homework, spread out over one of the

couches. He looked up, and his face softened.

"Hey," he said, softly. "You okay?" he asked Kristin.

"I'm okay."

"She wants to talk to Crane," I said.

"Oh. Well, yeah, I mean, Crane's good to talk to about stuff," Guthrie agreed.

"Where is he, do you know?" I asked.

"I think they all went out to look at your horse," Guthrie said.

"Okay," I said, and prepared to head outside, not even stopping to put shoes on my bare feet.

Kristin, by now, was sitting beside Guthrie. "Harlie?" she said.

"Huh?" I asked, pausing at the door.

"Don't make it sound like-urgent, or anything, okay?" Kristin asked.

I knew what she meant. This was hard enough, without having somebody roll in to talk to you, acting all intense and frantic.

"Crane's not like that," Guthrie said.

"I know he's not," Kristin said, with a sigh.

I went outside, and walked across the yard, towards the corrals. Adam and Hannah were there, along with Crane. Evan and Nancy, too. I was

glad to see them holding hands, and seeming as if they were over their jittery tiff of earlier.

"Your skunk was making noises," Nancy told me, as I walked up.

"Yeah. He does that. That's how he talks," I told her.

"He needs his teeth floated, Harlie," Evan said, gesturing towards Dark Commander.

"I know. I'm going to talk to Ivy about it tomorrow," I said.

I stepped up on the bottom rail of the corral, and laid my arms on the top, standing next to Crane.

"Well, I'd better get this little man inside and ready for bed," Hannah said, jiggling Isaac until he giggled. Hannah and Adam started

walking back towards the house, and after a few more minuets, Nancy said her goodbyes and prepared to leave. We waved her down

the driveway, and Evan disappeared into the house as well.

"Homework finished?" Crane asked me.

"No. Not yet."

Crane gave me a look. "So, should you be out here, then?"

"I came out to tell you something," I said, in defense of my 'homework break'.

"What?"

"Kristin wants to talk to you. About her mom-and what's going on at home." I looked up at him. "She doesn't really have anybody to talk to. I mean, she can talk

to me, and to Guthrie, but I mean, an adult."

Crane looked as though he was thinking. "Well, I don't know if I can help, but I'll be glad to talk with her."

I hesitated and then said, "She's sort of embarrassed. About her mom and Frank. You know-"

"I think I do," he said.

"I told her the porch swing is a good place to have a talk," I said.

"Well, I'll go get installed on the swing, and you can tell her to come on out," Crane said.

I went back upstairs after that to work on my homework. The telephone rang downstairs, and Guthrie came to the door of my bedroom.

"That was Daniel on the phone," he said.

I sat up straight. "Is he still on there?" I asked, preparing to get up.

"Naw, he only had a couple of minutes to talk. He said to tell ya hi, and he'll be home sometime next week."

"Oh," I said, settling back down again.

"That way he'll be around to help with the wedding and stuff," Guthrie said.

"That'll be good," I agreed. "And Ford's going to come a few days before, too."

"Yeah. That'll be good," Guthrie said, echoing my own words.

He came on into my room, and went over to my dresser, moving some stuff around on the top, just absently, like he was

thinking about something else entirely.

"Are Crane and Kristin still talking?" I asked.

"Yeah. They're still out on the porch."

"Crane will help," I said, to encourage Guthrie. "He always knows the right thing to say."

"I know. It's just-" Guthrie hesitated.

There was something in his tone that made alarm bells go off in my head.

"Just what?" I prodded.

"I don't think Kristin can stay there. At her house, I mean. I don't think she can hack it there anymore."

I, myself, knew that Kristin was upset and anxious about things at her house. But, there was something else in Guthrie's tone.

Something that worried me.

"What, Guth?" I asked.

"She needs to go somewhere else to live," Guthrie said.

"She's not thinking of-running off, is she?" I asked, feeling panicky.

"She won't do that."

"Then what do you mean? You mean, live here, at our house, or what?"

"That'd be good," Guthrie said, with a deep sigh.

He looked so down. I pushed my papers and books to one side, and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Kristin wants to be here. She'll even talk to Crane-and listen to Adam. And Kenny says it makes him feel better to be

here, too. Around all the family. I guess we're sort of an unusual group," I said.

Guthrie met my eyes from across my small room. "I guess so," he said, in agreement.

"I mean, they're strict and all, but-other kids still want to be here," I said.

Guthrie nodded, and set down the snow globe of mine that he'd been holding, and shaking up. "I guess it's cause they're

fair, too."

I nodded in agreement. I thought my older brothers were fair about things. At least I mostly thought they were. Once in awhile one of them

would do something that I thought was a little 'too much', or too harsh, like weeks before when Adam had taken me to task about lying to he and Brian.

That time, I thought he'd gone a bit overboard, been too strict, but usually I agreed with what Guthrie had said. About them being fair.

Guthrie went to go take a shower, and I carried on with my homework. I finished nearly everything. I had some questions on my trigonometry

homework that I wanted to run past Crane. And I had some more reading to do in my Anatomy book, but I figured that was something I could

do at school if I timed it out right.

A tap at my half-open door, and I looked up to see Adam standing there.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey."

"Where's Guthrie?"

"He was taking a shower, I think," I said. "Did you look in his bedroom?"

"No, I haven't yet. I wanted to let you know, I want to have a talk with both of you in the morning, before you leave for school. So, don't slip

out until I've had a chance to do that. Alright?" Adam said.

He looked serious, and I felt sort of a flicker in my belly. I always get that when I know one of the guys want to 'have a talk' with me. Even when

I can't think of anything in particular that I might have done, or not done, to warrant a lecture.

"Do you want to talk right now?" I asked, thinking that might be the best.

"No. I'm tired. It's been a doozy of a day. I'll catch you both in the morning. You need to be gettin' all that put up, and getting to bed

yourself," Adam said.

"I am. I'm finished for tonight," I said.

"Your shot," he reminded me.

"Yes. I'll go down now," I said.

"Alright. Then to bed," he said. "Night, sugar."

"Goodnight," I said.

When he'd gone, on down the hallway to his and Hannah's bedroom, I slipped downstairs and did my injection. Kristin and Crane were

just coming in from the porch when I started back upstairs. I paused at the bottom of the staircase, waiting.

"Did you do your shot?" Crane asked me, closing the door, and then going to turn off the lamp.

"Yeah. Just got done," I said. I thought Kristin looked okay. Not upset. She seemed calmer than before.

"You girls need to be heading to bed," Crane said, and started walking towards the desk.

"'Night, Crane," I said.

"Goodnight," he said. He smiled at me, and then at Kristin.

Kristin told him goodnight, and we went upstairs. Both Kristin and I were so tired that we only talked for a few minutes.

It had, as Adam had said, been a doozy of a day. A doozy of a weekend.

7


	52. And we continue on

I was in a rush the next morning before school. I was checking off things in my mind that I needed to get done that day. And, since

eating right is important, (I sure didn't want any blood sugar episodes) with everything that was going on right now, I made sure

to eat a healthy breakfast. Guthrie was exuberant because he didn't have to go to school that day. Seniors could have a 'skip day' if

they so chose, and of course he chose it. He'd told Kristin she could ride into school with me. I could tell from the way he was talking

that he was going to help Evan a majority of the day at the cabin.

I was finishing up and grabbing some fruit to take for snacks during the morning at school between classes, when Hannah

asked me if I could stop at the store on my way home. She started naming off several items that we needed.

"Get some money out of my purse, for everything," she told me.

I paused, from where I'd been choosing between an apple or a banana, to look at her.

I didn't really want to have to stop at the store after work at the vet clinic. I would have homework, and I needed to get

home to work with my new horse-

I guess Hannah could tell, by my hesitation, because she stopped listing things, and looked at me. "Or can you not stop

at the store for me?"

"I can," I said, still reluctant. "It's just-maybe-" I paused.

"You have a lot to do, right?" Hannah asked, correctly guessing my thoughts.

"Well, yeah," I said.

"We all have a lot to do," Adam said, speaking as he passed beside me on his way to the coffee pot. He began refilling his cup,

giving me a serious look. "Hannah needs you to get some things at the store. None of us are going into town today, so we can't do

it. You can manage to fit it into your schedule. Can't you?"

The way he said that last part, I could hear the censure in his tone. He could make me feel ashamed of myself with just that little

bit of words, and tone.

I felt my face get warm. I picked up an apple, and looked toward Hannah. "I'll get the stuff for you," I said, quietly.

"Thank you," Hannah said. She looked somewhat sympathetic. "Go upstairs and get my purse-"

"Here," Adam said, interrupting her. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, taking a ten dollar bill out and handing

it to me. "That enough, do you think?" he asked Hannah.

"I think it should be," she said.

"Well, here," Adam added, and pulled out a five dollar bill. He handed that off to me, as well. "Just to be sure."

I took the money, and tucked it into my front pocket of my jeans. After that, I put my apple and a granola bar into a small sack, heading

towards the living room.

"I'll be ready to go in a minute," Kristin told me.

I said okay, and went to gather up my backpack. I'd already put my homework in it. Adam came walking thru from the kitchen,

Guthrie behind him. Guthrie was devouring another biscuit, and dropping crumbs as he walked. I could see them falling.

"Let's talk before you and Kristin take off," Adam told me.

"Okay," I said, slinging my backpack over my shoulder.

"Let's go out on the porch," Adam said, and Guthrie and I exchanged glances, following Adam out. He pulled the wooden door

closed behind us, and went to lean against one of the porch columns.

"I've been thinkin' a lot about what happened Saturday night at the party you went to," Adam began.

I had the feeling then that he Adam was going to come down on Guthrie for fighting. He, well, none of the family, really, had

said too much about what had happened. I thought that they had all understood. Now, I wondered.

I could tell Guthrie was bothered, because his posture immediately changed. He stood up straighter, as if bracing himself.

"Even though Kenny's bound to have trouble from some people, it's still a damn shame about what happened," Adam began. "We all need

to be able to give and receive grace."

Well, that wasn't too bad. It was nice, actually. I felt a little better.

"I wish I could say that I think that's the end of it," Adam went on. "But, likely it's not."

"Those two boys started it all-" I began.

"I know they did," Adam said. "I understand how it was. You and Trent, Guth, didn't feel as though you had

much choice, right?"

"We didn't," Guthrie affirmed. I could tell he was still tensed up, waiting for Adam to start lecturing, or yelling.

"Right. What I'm thinking of, though, is when it comes up again. If it's at school, then I want you to let the teachers or

the principal take care of it. That's their job. And, if those boys are stupid enough to start somethin' at school, then they

can deal with what the school hands down to them," Adam said.

I shot a look at Guthrie. Adam was effectively saying, 'no fighting at school'. That's what he meant.

"What if it's not at school?" Guthrie asked, sounding tense. "What if it's out-like it was Saturday night? You're not

sayin' you want me to stand there while they tear Kenny apart, are you?"

"No. I'm not saying that," Adam said. "I'm saying that if there's any way to avoid trouble, not get into a fight, then that's

what I'm asking you to do."

Guthrie looked still tense, but after a moment or so, he gave a brief nod. "I won't go lookin' for trouble."

"Okay," Adam said. He looked at me, then. I'd actually been wondering why he wanted me out there for this

'talk'. It's not as though I'd been actively involved in punching anyone Saturday night.

"The thing with you, sugar," he began, "Is I'm concerned about if you're out somewhere with Kenny, and it's just

the two of you. Not Guthrie. Not Trent. Just you two. And, some of these characters decide to start somethin' with Kenny, then. It

puts you in a bad spot. I don't like the thought of that. Not at all."

I wondered at that. Was he changing his mind about letting me go out with Kenny? Just last night he'd said it was

alright-

"I just flat-out don't want you in that situation," Adam went on. "Brian and Crane feel the same."

"So, what does that mean, exactly?" I asked.

"For awhile, have Kenny hang around here. If you go out, to the movies or whatever, then go with other people. Guthrie and Kristin,

Trent and Lori, Ford and his girl, whoever it may be. Just not alone. We don't want you hurt."

"There were other people at the party," I pointed out. "That didn't stop it from happening."

As soon as I'd said the words, I wanted to take them back. Adam frowned at me.

"That's true," he said, dryly. "Keep talkin', Harlie. You'll convince me that you shouldn't be goin' out with him at all."

I felt my face get all hot again. The second time this morning that he'd managed to nail me with his words, and it wasn't

even 7:30 yet.

"Yeah, Har, stop talkin'," Guthrie said, and I knew he was more serious than he was joking.

Adam gave me another hard look, and then he said, "So, are we agreed on this? Guthrie?"

"Yeah. Agreed," Guthrie said.

"How about you?" Adam asked me. "Can you abide by what I'm saying to you?"

My face was still feeling all hot. "Yes. I will," I told him.

"Alright," Adam said, pushing himself off the porch column.

"You ready?" Guthrie asked me. "I'll tell Kristin to hurry up."

"Uh huh," I said.

Guthrie went inside then, letting the screen door slam. That left Adam and I there on the porch, alone.

"Busy weekend," he said, and I could tell he was done with his lecture mode.

"It sure was," I agreed.

Kristin came bursting out the door then. We said goodbye to Adam, and began walking towards my truck.

"Have a good day," Adam said, just like he did every single morning.

7

On the ride into school, I asked Kristin if she was spending the night again with us.

"I'll see what Mom says when you take me over there to get my backpack and stuff," Kristin said. "If she says Frank won't be

around, then I might stay there tonight." She hesitated, looking worried. "I'm sorry-to be so wishy-washy and all-I just never

know what's happening at my house lately-"

"It's alright," I said. "You know everybody wants you to stay at our house."

"I feel that," Kristin said. "And it means so much, I can't even say how much."

She looked as though she was going to cry, or nearly anyway.

"You're an honorary McFadden," I said.

Kristin smiled, still looking a little emotional. "I wish I'd been born into a family like yours. Instead of this mess that I ended up

with."

"We're sure not perfect," I said.

"Maybe not. But, at least you all love and look out for each other," Kristin said.

"What about talking to Crane last night?" I asked, as we were nearly to the trailer park. "How did that go?"

"Oh, wow," Kristin said, and it was as though a light passed over her face. "Crane's incredible. I mean, when he's talking

to me, I feel as though he really cares, you know?"

"He does care," I said.

"You're so lucky, Harlie," Kristin said. A comment which she has made to me many times before.

I parked in front of the mobile home, beside Kristin's mom's car.

"She didn't go to work, it looks like," Kristin said, with a sigh. "That's not a good sign."

She opened her door, and said, "I'll be right back," and prepared to get out.

I told her okay, and watched as she went up the few steps of the porch, and into the trailer house.

7

The statement from Adam about how "we all need to be able to give and receive grace", is a quote from Robinangel, and I think it's

beautiful. She said she didn't mind if I used it. Thanks, Robinangel!


	53. A lecher and a loser

I ended up being late to school. Kristin took forever inside her house, and I was getting impatient and anxious. I didn't want a tardy. Finally, when

the door did open, I was relieved, thinking she was coming at last. But, my relief was short-lived. It was Freaky Frank, himself, coming out.

He'd lost some weight since last summer. I guess that's what jail will do to a person. Other than that, though, he looked

just the same. Disheveled. In need of a shave. He came down the steps and towards my truck. I didn't have time to roll my window up, and

even if I'd had time to, I wouldn't want him to think I was afraid of him or anything. Even if I was. A little bit.

He put his hands right there, on the open window, and leaned in a bit. "Well, if it isn't the little girl with a boy's name," he said,

I wanted to tell him to take his hands away. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't a little girl. But, I didn't say either of those

things. Or anything else. I looked away, back towards the mobile home again, wishing that I could conjure Kristin up, as if by magic,

so that we could just get going.

"How've you been?" he asked then.

I considered being silent again, but then thought better of it. I didn't want him to start yelling or anything, saying that I

thought I was 'too good' to talk to him, or whatever.

"I've been good," I said.

"Is that so?" he asked. "Bein' good? Or doin' it good?"

There was no mistaking the meaning to that statement. What a nasty creep. I grappled just momentarily with what to do. I wasn't even embarrassed by what

he'd said. Just disgusted. And just wanting to get away from him.

And, I didn't know how to do that. I didn't want to drive off and leave without Kristin. But, who knew how much longer she was

going to be inside, talking to her mom, or whatever she was doing.

So, I made a split-second decision. Even though I'd been told last year by Adam, and Crane, to never, ever go inside Kristin's house

when Frank was around, I thought this might be the exception. He was already inches from me, breathing on me, and being

insulting. At least inside the house, Kristin's mom would be around, and maybe I could hurry Kristin along.

So, with that decision made, I opened my door. An action, which surprised Frank a bit, since he was basically dislodged.

I shut the door, and went really quickly up the few steps. I knew I should knock, but I could hear yelling inside, and thought they

wouldn't hear me. Besides, I didn't want to just stand there, in case Frank decided to follow along. I opened the door, and stepped inside, closing it behind me.

Kristin and her mother, I could hear from down the hall, where the bedrooms were at. I stood there, leaning against the

door, letting my eyes adjust after being out in the bright sun. And there, sitting on the couch, with his feet on the coffee table,

was Buddy, Kristin's brother.

I hadn't seen him for a long while, either. He's between Evan and Ford's age somewhere. I can never remember just what his

age is, exactly. He was watching television, which was also loud, and smoking a cigarette.

Buddy surveyed me, and then stood up, stepping the few feet to turn off the television set. Then he turned, and went right

back to where he'd been sitting on the couch. Same spot. Same position. Sort of slouched down, with his legs stretched out in

front of him.

There was silence from the bedroom area now. No yelling. Still, Kristin didn't come out. I looked at Buddy, and saw that he

was watching me.

"She's back there," he said, nodding his head towards the bedroom down the hallway.

I wanted to ask him, tell him, could he please go and get Kristin, but I didn't. I didn't think he would, anyway.

"She wants to live with your family, you know," he said, then. He said it in an off-hand sort of way. As if he was announcing

that it was going to rain that afternoon.

"That's what the fight's about," he went on.

I was sorry that Kristin had chosen this particular time to take the subject up with her mother. For one, we were going to be

late for school. Secondly, Buddy and Frank were both here. Not a good time to discuss things. And, me. I was here, too, feeling as

if I was ringside at a WWE fight.

"She needs to learn to live with things the way they are," Buddy said, and took a long drag off his cigarette. "She's just bein' a

stupid kid."

That riled me. I didn't swear at Buddy, or tell him he was the stupid one. I mean, he's 21 or 22 or something like that, and he

doesn't work, except very rarely at odd jobs. I know from what Kristin says, that he doesn't do much at all, except go out drinking, or carousing

around, and then sleeping most of the day. She doesn't know where he gets his money from. Besides mooching off of her mom.

I mean, for gosh sakes, Kristin had more sense in her pinky finger than Buddy the Bum had in his whole entire body-

I didn't tell him that, though. I mean, he's pretty good sized, and I know he's not above roughing Kristin around. He's done it before.

He doesn't do it much, because she just leaves him alone, and doesn't argue or fuss with him. Just gives him a wide berth.

I didn't think he would-well, shove me or hit me or anything like that. But, I wasn't gonna call him stupid to his face.

"She talks about that family of yours like they're perfect," Buddy said, and then just stared at me, as if waiting for me to

respond. When I didn't, he said, "So?"

"What?" I asked.

"Are they perfect? All those brothers of yours?"

"They never claimed to be perfect," I said, stiffly, feeling defensive. "They just try to-" I hesitated. "To treat people

right."

Buddy stared at me, his gaze hard.

I couldn't help it. I called out, "Kris! We've gotta go or we'll be late!"

"Be there in a minute!" Kristin hollered back.

I sank back against the wall again, feeling defeated, and wondering what I should do.

Buddy leaned forward, and crushed out his cigarette in the ash tray on the table.

He leaned back again, and tapped the pack of Camels in his shirt pocket. "Want a cigarette?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No."

"Don't smoke, huh?" he asked, looking amused.

"No."

There was another round of yelling from the back of the trailer. Snatches of it I could understand. Enough to know that Kristin's

mom was angry or sad about whatever Kristin was telling her.

"Stupid kid," Buddy muttered, and pulled out the pack of Camels, shaking one out, and lighting it. "She's never satisfied."

"She could be," I heard myself saying.

He gave me a hard look. "What's that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"Maybe you should try to make it better around here for her," I said.

I swear you could feel the air crackling with tension. I mean, I did. Buddy stared at me, hard, and then he

said, "That's what you think, huh?"

"You could," I said.

The ash grew so long on his cigarette in the next silence, that I thought it was going to fall onto the carpet. He stood up, and took the few steps

over to me. I pressed against the wall, even though I knew that was futile, and dumb, besides. I mean, what could he do to me, here?

Nothing, right?

His eyes were glittering with anger. "You know what I think?" he said.

He leaned really close, like he was going to whisper in my ear. "I think you ought to shut your mouth and mind your own

business." He raised his head and stepped back. "That's what I think." Then he added, "Princess."

I knew he meant that in a derogatory way. I wanted so badly to tell him-well there was a lot I could say.

I stepped around him, my shoulder bumping his. "Kris!" I yelled again, and then went back out the door, outside. I planned on

getting in and rolling up my windows if Frank was still lurking about, but he wasn't in sight.

I got into my truck, started the motor, and then sat there, trying to still my breathing. I was literally shaking.

Kristin came flying out just a few moments later, thank goodness. She had her backpack slung over her shoulder,

and she got in, slamming her door.

She was breathing heavily, crying.

"Kris-" I began.

"Just let's go, Harlie. Please," she said.

So we drove to school. The ride there was punctuated by alternate silence, and then Kristin's sniffling. Finally, when we were nearly

to the school, she said, "I'm sorry about that-making you wait like that."

"It's okay," I said, though, really, it hadn't been okay at all.

"I know it wasn't," she denied. "I just wanted to try to get thru to my mom-"

"But, you couldn't?" I asked.

"No." She sighed heavily.

"Are you gonna spend the night tonight?" I asked.

"Maybe. I don't know. I told her I'd call her at lunchtime."

"Okay," I said.

By now she was reaching into her backpack, and pulling out some Kleenex. Wiping her eyes, she looked closer at me.

"You okay?" she asked me. "Buddy didn't hassle you, did he?"

I thought about telling her that Buddy had basically threatened me, well, in an off-the-cuff sort of way. And, that Frank had

been his usual lecherous self. But, I thought Kristin had enough to worry about right now. So, I just said, "He didn't hassle me too much."

I could tell my answer relieved her, a bit. "That's good," she said, and then pulled the visor down, to peer into the mirror on the back.

"I'm a mess," she said.

7

I handed in all my homework, but there was a quiz in trigonometry that I wasn't prepared for, and I knew when I turned that in,

that I hadn't done well. I was in between classes, shoving books into my locker, when somebody came up beside me.

"Hey, Harlie."

I looked up to see Bill standing there.

"Hi," I said.

"Everything good with you?" he asked.

"Not bad," I said. "How about you?"

"The same. Felicity and Ford went out again, huh?"

I pushed my hair out of my face. "Yeah. I guess they did."

"I sure never figured-" he hesitated. "Well, I mean, I thought they'd just out that one time-"

"Yeah," I said, in agreement. "I figured that, too."

"I mean, it's cool and all," he said. "Ford's a nice guy."

"I think I know what you mean," I said. "You're sort of worried about Felicity, right?"

"In a way, yeah," he admitted.

After a moment or so, he shrugged. "I guess we'll have to see where it goes, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess."

"So," he said, and hesitated. "You've been going out with Kenny-that's his name, right?"

"A couple of times," I said. Awkward! I fell compelled to explain a bit. "Kenny's sort of a friend of the family."

"Oh." He still looked puzzled, and a bit hurt, I thought.

I didn't know what to say, then. I wasn't sure if I should tell Bill that I still wanted to go out with him, or not.

I closed my locker door, and we stood there a couple of moments longer, neither of us saying anything.

"You want to go out this weekend?" he asked then.

"I think I can," I said, though, truthfully, I didn't know where I would find the time.

"Okay. Great," he said, looking happy. "I'll talk to you about it later, then, okay?"

"Sure. Okay," I said.

He smiled at me, and I smiled back.

7

I finished my school day, and drove to the vet office. I could hear noises coming from the back, and the phone was ringing as

I walked in. I grabbed it as quickly as I could, and took down a message for Ivy.

Then I got out my apple, and headed back to see what was happening.

Ivy was perched on a tall bar stool, an old one that had been stuck in a corner somewhere, watching as the roof on the

barn was worked on. There was a crew working, laying down shingles, and throwing others off onto the ground.

"Hi. What's up?" I asked her.

"Hey, Harlie. I thought I'd better do something with that roof. Shingles have been blowing off like crazy, every time the wind picks

up."

"Oh." I studied the men up on the roof. There were two of them, and, shading my eyes from the sun, I could tell I didn't recognize

either of them. "Who are the guys?" I asked her.

"Lawrence-Lonnie, something like that," she said. "I can't remember. They just showed up Friday night, late, answering my ad, and said they could

fix the roof up. They had a good price, so I said okay." She smiled at me.

We went back inside then, and spent the afternoon tidying up the shelves, and doing inventory. I knew I wasn't meant to, but I caught

a glimpse of Ivy's financial ledger. It was while I was stacking stuff up on her desk that I saw it. She came bustling up behind me,

and I jumped, feeling guilty. She seemed not to notice.

It was while we were having a cold Coke from her mini fridge that she asked me about Crane. How he was, and all that.

It made me feel sort of funny. I knew she really liked Crane, and that he'd been nice to her, even invited her over to eat. But, I

wasn't sure if he liked Ivy the way that she liked him. I didn't think that he'd actually taken Ivy out, you know, on a real date or

anything like that. I was pretty sure he was still seeing Cindy. Miss Noel.

So, when I answered her, it was sort of vague. "He's okay," I said.

Since we were mostly done with the inventory, I cut out about ten minutes before I usually left. I figured that ten minutes

was ten minutes. Since I had to go to the store for Hannah and everything, that little bit of time would help.

I was going up and down the grocery aisles, when I started to get a headache. I remembered the apple that I'd meant to

eat, but then laid down somewhere at the office. I remembered the sugary Coke I'd had. Gosh darn it. I finished my shopping,

and didn't stay around to chit-chat with Maisie, who checked me out.

I got in my truck, and sat there, out front, long enough to eat a granola bar, and take a couple of Tylenol that I keep in

the glove compartment.

I was tired when I finally drove up our long driveway, which ticked me off. I was too young to feel so tired. Having a busy weekend

wasn't a reason. I parked in my regular spot, looking out at Dark Commander. Old Charley was still standing nearby, as if

keeping him company. Warrior came running to greet me, followed at a more leisurely pace by Gus.

I heard a, "Hey, Harlie!" called to me, and looked to see Brian waving, from where he was perched on the roof of the feed

shed. I waved back, and went inside the house, dropping my backpack on the living room coffee table, and taking the bag

of groceries to the kitchen. Nobody was around, so I put stuff away.

I met Clare coming down the stairs as I headed up.

"Hi, toots," she greeted me.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Today is a good day for me," she said. She paused there, on the stairs, looking at me. "How are you feeling?"

Perceptive. That's Clare. Plus, being a nurse, I guess she can't help it.

"Just a headache," I told her. "It's better. Where is everybody?"

"Oh, gosh. Here, there, and yonder. Hannah's up at the cabin, helping to do the last of the painting. I think Guthrie and Evan

are up there, too. Brian and Crane are working on the roof of the shed-"

"It's busy around here," I said.

"Crazy," Clare agreed.

7


	54. Calming the crazy

I did my outside chores, and spent some time with Pepe. I knew it had to be getting close to time for supper, so I figured everybody

that was up at the cabin would be heading down soon.

I was petting Pepe, and talking to him, when I heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. I closed the door to Pepe's

stall, and went to look out the barn door.

I wasn't surprised to see Nancy, parking her car, and getting out, still wearing her shirt from her job at the farm supply store.

She saw me standing there, and headed towards me. "Hey, wild child," she greeted me.

"Hi."

"Evan around?"

"Up at the cabin, I guess. I haven't seen him since I got home," I told her.

"Guess I'll go in, and see if I can help throw supper together," she said.

"Clare's the only one inside."

"Okay."

When she'd gone, I went out and began trying to work with Dark Commander. He let me put the halter on, and lead him around, but

he just seemed to show no interest, just lackluster. I began grooming him, brushing out his coat, and he stood still for that, and I think he

was enjoying it.

Crane and Brian had finished some time ago on the roof of the shed, and they'd disappeared. I heard the sounds of four-wheelers

and the Jeep coming from the direction of the cabin. Hannah, riding in the Jeep with Adam, Guthrie in the back, and then Brian

on an ATV, and Evan on another. I kept brushing the horse, and Hannah was the first one to wave at me, as she headed

towards the house. "Hi, sweetie!"

I could see the paint all over her clothes, and she had her hair held back with a kerchief.

I waved back at her. "Hi!"

Guthrie ambled my way next. He, too, looked as though he'd been enthusiastic with his painting. There were splashes of paint

on his shirt, and even a spot or two in his hair.

"How's Kristin?" he asked, before he even said 'hello'.

"Okay, I think. I saw her at lunch."

"Is she comin' over tonight?"

"I don't know-she was going to call her mom after lunch, and talk to her some more." I hesitated. I didn't really want to get into

everything that had happened that morning with Guthrie. Not right at that moment, anyway. He would just get all riled up.

"She and her mom had a fight this morning," I did tell him.

"What about?"

"I guess because she wants to stay with us all the time," I said.

Guthrie muttered something under his breath. I knew without asking him to repeat it, that it was something uncomplimentary about

Kristin's mother. Something that he would have been admonished for, if Adam had been nearby. I settled for just being quiet, and Guthrie

and I exchanged a glance between us that shared our common dislike for the situation that Kristin was in.

"I'll call her after supper," Guthrie said.

I nodded. "Good idea."

I realized then that Kenny hadn't come down with everybody else, and that his truck was gone, as well.

"Where's Kenny?" I asked.

"He left about noon, to take his dad to a doctor's appointment."

"Oh. Well, that's good. That he's helping his dad, I mean."

"Yeah. Well, I'm gonna go wash up," Guthrie said, and started for the house.

Adam was gathered near the barn, talking to Brian, and I knew that I needed to talk to both of them about what had happened

that morning, at Kristin's house.

I picked up my brushes and curry comb, and took off the halter, going to put everything away in the tack shed.

Then I went over to where they were standing. Well, by now, they were sitting, and leaning. Adam had taken a seat on

a bale of hay set against the barn, and Brian was half-leaning, half-sitting, on the tail gate of the old farm truck.

They were talking, something about the bull, when I got over to them. I went to sit on the truck tail gate, next to Brian, staying

quiet.

They paused in their conversation, and Adam said, "Hey, sugar."

"Hi."

"How was school?"

"Okay."

They went on talking again, then, and I sat there, listening, and waiting.

Brian finally turned to me, and said, "What's up with you?"

"I just wanted to talk to both of you," I said.

"Alright," Adam said. They were both looking at me. Waiting.

"It's about this morning, when I took Kristin home, to get her stuff for school," I began. "She went inside, and I was

waiting in the truck, and Frank came out."

Immediately, I saw both of their demeanors change. Adam's eyes sort of narrowed, and Brian crossed his arms, looking at me.

"He came over and said started talking, and I answered him, because-" I hesitated, "I didn't want him flipping out, saying that I thought

I was too good to talk to him, or whatever. And then-he just got weird, so I got out, and went inside."

Before they could start getting mad, or lecturing me, I went on quickly, "I know you said not to go into the trailer, when Frank's

around, but I figured, he was already outside, and at least Kristin's mom would be inside."

I stopped talking to catch my breath. I'd said all of that nearly in one quick blast.

Adam's first question was calm enough. "Did he follow you back inside?"

"No."

"When you say 'he got weird', what do you mean?" Adam asked then.

"He-he said what he always says, about me having a boy's name, and asked how I'd been, and I answered him. And, then-he just

said stuff that made me feel uncomfortable," I said.

"Harlie. What?" Adam pressed.

I sighed a little. "I said that I was doing good, and he said something about was I 'being good', or 'doing it good'," I admitted.

The muscles at the side of Adam's jaw were working in and out, and Brian looked as though he could bite nails.

"So, I went inside," I said, hoping that they would both quit looking so ferocious.

"God damn bastard," Brian swore.

Adam stood up, and stepped the few feet, over closer to where Brian and I were. He didn't say anything for a couple of moments,

and then he said, "And Linda was inside? You talked to her?"

"She was inside, but I didn't see her," I said. "Her and Kristin were arguing in one of the bedrooms. And, finally I just told Kristin

to hurry, and went back outside."

Brian frowned. "After you went inside to get away from Frank? Why'd you go right back outside again?"

I hesitated, not really keen to tell them now about Buddy.

"What?" Brian demanded.

"Buddy was inside," I said. "And, he was being a jerk, too. I was gonna go out and roll up the window and all, but Frank was

already gone somewhere when I went back out."

"What'd he say to you? That Buddy kid?" Brian asked.

"Nothing like what Frank said," I said, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him.

"But something?" Brian persisted. "What?"

"He told me I needed to mind my own business," I said.

They were clearly expecting more than that. So, I tacked on, "I told him if he wanted to, he could make things a lot better

for Kristin at that house. He didn't like that."

Adam walked a bit away, and then back again, looking as though he was thinking. He and Brian exchanged one of those

looks that they have, where they seem to communicate without words.

"No driving Kristin home anymore," Adam said.

"Right," Brian said, in agreement. "If she needs somethin' from her place, she'll have to have her mom bring it to her, or

somethin'."

"No going over there at all," Adam added. He still looked angry. "Hear me?"

I nodded. I had no desire to go anywhere where either Frank or Buddy might be at. "I promise."

They were both still looking at me, as if they were processing everything I'd told them, and they both still looked

edgy, and tense.

"I wasn't trying to disobey what you told me, about going inside over there, but-I just wanted to get away from Frank, and

maybe make Kristin hurry a little bit," I said.

Still, they were silent. I began to worry in a different way. "Are you guys mad at me?" I asked.

"Not mad at you, peach," Brian said. "I'd like to get my hands on that sorry excuse for a man, though."

"That's not gonna help anything, Brian," Adam said. "Just get you hauled to jail, is all it would do."

"Yeah. I know," Brian said.

Nancy came out onto the porch, hollering to us, and calling us in to supper.

Brian gave my leg a pat, and headed towards the house.

I sat where I was, looking at Adam.

"Brian's not mad 'cause I went inside," I said, softly. "Are you?"

Adam sighed, and then he came the few steps over, and sat down on the tail gate, beside me.

"I'm not angry with you," he said.

I felt so relieved that he understood, that I smiled at him. "That's good," I said. "I knew if I explained to you the way that

it happened, that you'd say it was right."

"I didn't say I thought it was right," Adam said, and I gave him a puzzled look.

"What else could I have done?" I protested.

"Put your truck in drive, and head on to school."

"What would Kristin have done, though?" I persisted. "If I just drove off and left her like that?"

"Gotten her mother to give her a ride to school, is one choice."

"But, Adam-" I began to argue.

"Harlie," Adam said, putting a stop to my protest. He patted my knee, like Brian had a few minutes earlier. "I understand how

it was. I do."

"Okay," I said, still eying him a little warily.

Adam was still eying me, too, as though he was studying me. "Is Kristin coming tonight?" he asked.

"I don't know for sure. Guthrie was gonna call her. If Frank's there, then she doesn't want to stay."

"Yeah," Adam said, with a sigh, sounding regretful. "She's got it rough, no doubt about that."

Hannah appeared on the porch. She had changed her clothes, I could see.

"Hey, you two!" she called. "Come on in to supper!"

"We'll be right in," Adam hollered back to her. "Go on and start without us."

Hannah waved in a sign of understanding, and went back in, the screen door flapping closed behind her.

"What's for supper, anyway?" he asked me.

"I don't know. It was Clare and Nancy's thing tonight."

He nodded. "So, how's the horse doing?" he asked, then, looking out towards Dark Commander in the corral.

"He seems to not mind being in the corral," I said.

"It helps him get used to his surroundings."

"He doesn't show much interest in anything, though," I said.

"Well, give him some time," Adam advised.

"When do you think I should let him out with the other horses?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't know, sugar," Adam said, looking thoughtful. "I'd give him a few more days. There's no hurry to that."

"Okay," I said.

Adam made no move to head inside, and it seemed to me that he had something more he wanted to say. Or talk about.

"Things have been real busy around here lately," he said.

"They sure have," I said, in agreement.

"Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?" Adam asked, then.

When I looked at him, in question, he said, "With everything being as crazy as it has been, I just want to make sure you're

doing okay."

I felt sort of warm inside when he said that. "I'm okay," I said.

He nodded. "I just want to remind you that you can come talk to me, if you need to."

That was so nice, that I felt like I might almost tear up. I didn't, but I felt as though I could have.

"I know I can," I said.

"Well, I'm glad you came and shared all this with Brian and me."

"Being straight," I said. I looked at him, thinking that he looked really tired. "Being honest with you."

"I appreciate the heck out of it, kiddo," Adam said. He smiled at me. "Ready to go eat?"

"Yeah."

Adam reached out and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest for a hug. After a couple of moments,

he let me go, and we both stood up, heading inside to eat supper.

7


	55. You never know

After supper, Daniel called. He would, he told all of us, be home that coming Friday afternoon, which would put him home

a week before the wedding. That was the plan, at any rate.

A plan I was over the moon about, let me tell you!

When Guthrie and Brian had finished their turn at doing the dishes, we all gathered in the living room. Discussions turned to

the wedding, and what all was left to do. Nancy had brought all the RSVPs she had received, and they were counting the number

of guests who were definite.

Spread out over the entire coffee table, and on the floor in places, were the little net bags, to be filled with rice to toss

at Evan and Nancy, as they were to leave for their honeymoon. That took pretty much all hands on deck to finish, filling all those little bags.

Everybody helped.

Scooting around on the living room, we all had to keep an eye on Isaac, because he wanted to put everything in his

mouth.

It was some time later, when Nancy had said goodbye to everybody, and headed outside to her car, and Evan walked her

out. Hannah told Guthrie to go get the broom and dustpan from the kitchen, so that the floor could be swept up, from all

the rice.

Hannah started worrying about whether we would have enough space for seating, inside. And whether we would be

able to borrow chairs from the church.

Adam was helping to gather things up, picking up the leftover bows from tying the rice bags, and all of that.

He told Hannah we'd have enough seating, and not to worry so much.

"And if there's not enough places for people to sit, then they can just spill over outside, on the porch and in the yard," Brian

added. "We can hook up a loudspeaker onto the front of the house, so they can hear when the 'I do's' are done."

"You're not helping," Clare told him. "Don't make jokes like that in front of Nancy."

"Nancy doesn't get bent about jokes," Guthrie spoke up, from where he was sweeping loose rice into a pile.

I had to agree with that. After that one and only time in the kitchen, when Nancy had burst into sudden tears, and Hannah had

attributed it to wedding jitters, well, since then Nancy had seemed to be her usual unflappable self. I was glad Evan wasn't marrying

some silly girl that was a drama queen, or something like that. I considered that between her, and Clare, and Hannah, that I was

pretty darn lucky. I hadn't gotten a hard-to-like sister in law in the bunch.

"It doesn't sound as though there's that many people that have been invited, anyway," Adam added. "So, we should be alright."

"Do you think we need to wash the front windows?" Hannah was asking now.

Guthrie and I exchanged looks. We were always the ones that seemed to get stuck with that particular job. It had been a long time

since we'd done it, though.

"They're plenty clean," Guthrie objected.

"Uh huh," Hannah said, giving Guthrie a look. "There's only two layers of dust on them, not three or four. Right?"

Crane was moving the chairs back a few inches, and Guthrie began to complain.

"Every time I think I've got it all swept up, there's more."

Things were fairly well cleaned up a few minutes later, and Evan was coming back inside.

Hannah plucked Isaac from where he was crawling, underneath the coffee table.

"Come here, you little rascal," she said, with affection, covering Isaac's face with kisses. "Time for your bath."

"I'll do it," Adam said, reaching out to take Isaac from her. "You've been on your feet all day. Just sit and rest awhile."

"What a guy you are," Hannah said, without protest, and looking grateful.

Adam and Hannah went up the stairs together, and I sat down on the couch, pulling out my homework. After some time,

Crane came back in, carrying a cup of something that was steaming hot, and he sat down on the couch opposite of me. He

put on his glasses, and began reading thru a bunch of papers. We sat in a companionable silence, and for a while it was only the

two of us in the living room.

I finished my homework, and closed all my books. I sat in the quiet for a few moments, and then went over to the other couch.

There was a stack of papers next to Crane, while he read over others in his hands, occasionally writing something down.

I picked up the stack on the couch cushion, and sat down beside Crane, holding the papers.

"Finished with your homework?" Crane asked me, without looking up.

"Uh huh," I said. I looked down at the papers I held. They were full of numbers. Charts, with graphs. Years were

written in the margins.

"What is all this?" I asked him.

"Some research I've been doing," Crane said.

"It looks complicated," I said, and then, sifting thru the papers, I realized something.

"Research about the Mustangs?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Yeah."

I looked over the papers in my hands more closely, trying to make sense of them.

"What are you doing the research about on them?" I asked.

"The park service wants to try and keep a more accurate number on them," Crane said, still writing away in his notebook.

Now, that really interested me!

"Are you working for the Park Service?" I asked, with enthusiasm. "When did you start doing that?"

"I'm not actually working for them," Crane corrected. "Just helping out."

"That's terrific!" I said.

I watched as he kept writing, and sifting thru the papers, jotting down notes.

"Do you have to make trips up there more often?" I asked. "To count them, and check on them, and stuff?"

I was secretly hoping the answer was yes! Then there was the chance that I would be able to tag along with him.

Guthrie chose that moment to come thru from the kitchen, his hands full of cookies. He flopped down on the opposite couch,

the one that I'd been sitting on. He laid down, resting his feet on top of my books stacked there, and began munching on his

cookies.

"Crane's working for the Park Service!" I announced to Guthrie. And then, before Guthrie could respond,

Crane said, "Harlie-" in a cautionary way.

"I know, you're not really working for them-you're helping them out," I corrected. "But it's still amazingly awesome!"

"Amazingly awesome, huh?" Crane asked, and looked up to smile at me.

"Absolutely. So, do you have to make trips up there?" I asked him again.

"Yeah, occasionally," he said.

"Like when? That you go next, I mean?" I asked.

"In a few days, probably."

I opened my mouth to ask about going along, when Guthrie, around a mouthful of cookies, jumped the gun.

"Get ready, Crane," he predicted. "She's gettin' ready to invite herself along with you."

"Eat your cookies, Guthrie," I said, giving him a superior look. "And don't get your dirty feet on my books."

Guthrie and I began to squabble, mostly good-naturedly, until Crane said we were giving him a headache.

"Enough," Crane said. "Guthrie. Homework."

"Don't have much," Guthrie said. "What I do have will take me ten minutes, tops, to do."

"Brag, brag, brag," I said.

"Not bragging," Guthrie said. "It's just when you have a great brain like mine-"

"Uh, I'm gonna be sick," I said.

"Careful, Har," Guthrie said, with a grin. "Your jealousy is showing."

"Alright, both of you. Quit," Crane ordered. "Guthrie, go do your fifteen minutes of homework."

"Ten minutes," Guthrie corrected.

"Ten, then. Go do it."

Guthrie sighed, and then stood up, eating his last cookie. He disappeared, up the stairs.

Left alone with Crane again, I said, "Can I ride along with you, when you go up to the canyon?" I asked.

Crane looked at me, over the top of his glasses. "So you are inviting yourself along, huh?" he asked, smiling.

"I could be a lot of help to you," I pointed out. "You know I could be."

"I know you would be. I'm just teasing you." He took off his glasses, and leaned forward to lay them on the coffee table. "If I go

when you're out of school sometime, then I'd be glad to have you along."

"You could wait and only go when I'm off of school," I pointed out.

Crane pretended to be deeply in thought. "Hmm. I could? Well, I think about it, then."

7

The week progressed. In some ways, it seemed to go by fast. In other ways, it dragged on. I talked to Ivy about coming

out to look at Dark Commander's teeth, to see if they needed to be floated, so he would be able to eat more easily. Ivy said she would

come over later in the week, so I extended an invitation to her to come for supper on Thursday evening.

I could tell that she wanted to accept. That much was obvious. Still, she seemed to hesitate.

"You all have so much going on right now," she said. "What with the wedding coming up and all. This isn't a good time

for extra company."

"Oh," I said, waving away her protest with my hand. "Don't worry about that. We always have enough for one more."

Since this was Tuesday already, I didn't think that much about having asked Ivy to supper. I totally forgot to even mention it

at home at all.

Kristin was still dealing with stuff at her house. Because she'd complained so mightily to her mother, Linda had asked Frank to

stay somewhere else. I was glad when Kristin first told Guthrie and I about it, one day at lunch at school. But, Kristin didn't seem

all that relieved. She said that she didn't trust her mom at this point, to keep her word.

"Frank will probably be sitting right there in the recliner, drinking, when I get home today," Kristin said glumly.

Guthrie and I exchanged glances.

"Come on over and stay at our house, then," Guthrie urged her.

Kristin said she might do that, but she and Guthrie were still discussing it, when I got up to go and throw away my

lunch trash. Bill had come up to talk to me, telling me that Ford had asked his sister to the meal after the wedding the next Saturday at

our house.

I was surprised by that. It meant that Ford liked Felicity a lot, if he was inviting her to something like that, around all of the

family and close friends.

"That's good," I said, my thoughts racing ahead. I was wondering if that meant I should ask Bill to come, as well. I hadn't thought about it,

but I was getting the feeling that he definitely wanted to be asked.

"Yeah. Getting to know Ford sure has changed Felicity," Bill said, as we began walking into the school together.

I was pretty certain that Bill meant that Felicity had changed in a good way, and I guess he could tell what I was thinking,

because he added quickly, "That's good, I mean. She's a lot happier, and she doesn't mind so much being around people

she doesn't know."

"I'm glad," I said.

By now, we were at my locker, and I was searching for what I needed for my next class. Bill wasn't being weird, or even

asking if he could come, or anything like that. But, I still felt as though I should ask him. So, I did.

"Wow, Harlie, that would be great. That's real nice of you," he said, smiling at me.

I went on to class without really thinking much more about it. Once I got to Ivy's office, she was gathering up things

to go over to make a house call to one of the older ladies from church. Mrs. Mendenhall. Ivy said Mrs. Mendenhall's cat

was sick, and since Mrs. Mendenhall has such severe arthritis, Ivy was going over there instead of having her come to the office.

For not the first time, I thought what a nice person that Ivy really was. She didn't have to do that.

"Want me to come with you?" I offered.

"I can manage. If you want to answer the phone, and straighten up, that would be great," Ivy said.

She stuck her head back inside to tell me that the roofers were here again, working on the roof of the barn out back.

"They're not finished yet?" I asked, thinking that they were taking a really long time to finish.

"Not yet." Ivy hesitated. "Do you mind being here alone? They won't be coming inside for anything-"

"No. It's okay," I said. I figured that I wouldn't see the guys at all.

After Ivy left, I started cleaning up the office, sweeping up, and dusting. I answered the phone, though it only rang once, and

it was just somebody wanting to sell something.

After that, I went to feed the two dogs that Ivy was boarding for someone, and change the pads in the indoor run.

I was messing with the dogs, petting them, when I heard water running at the back of the building. I stood up suddenly,

and looked back towards where the sink's at. I couldn't see anything, so I took a few steps that way. I was still holding

one of the dogs in my arms. Nellie. She's a Corgi.

I stopped in my tracks, catching my breath, when somebody stepped from around the corner. It was a guy. He was wiping his

mouth with the back of his hand.

And, wow, what a guy he was.

"Hi," the guy said, coming to a stop, a few feet away.

I wasn't sure if I should say 'hi', or turn around and flee for safety. I mean, I didn't have any idea who he was, but I knew

he had to be one of the roofers.

I settled for the least panicked choice of the two.

"Hi," I answered.

"I just came in to get a drink of water," he said. He smiled at me. "I'm one of the guys working on the roof."

"Oh."

"I promise I'm harmless," he said, and winked at me.

He was a flirt, that was for sure. Still, he was really nice to look at. And, I figured I was safe enough.

"You a sister, or something?" he asked. "Of the lady here? The vet?"

"No. I work for her," I said.

"You do? That's cool," he said. "You like animals, I guess?" he asked and nodded at Nellie.

I put Nellie down onto the floor, and she went over to smell at his feet. "Yeah. I love them," I said.

He crouched down to scratch Nellie behind the ears. "Me, too."

Nellie was obviously enjoying the attention, and I swear that she looked disappointed when he stood up again.

He put out a hand to me. "I'm J.R."

I put out my hand and he took it. "I'm Harlie."

We shook hands, and he said, "That's a pretty name."

I've never really thought my name was classically pretty. I've never minded it or anything like that, even though people

thru the years have commented on it in a joking type of way. But, somehow it sounded believable when he said it that way.

"Thanks."

"So, you live here in town?" J.R. asked then.

"No. I live on a ranch-" I hesitated. Telling him where I lived would be sort of dumb. After all, I didn't know him. Even though

he seemed safe enough. And nice.

J.R. didn't seem to notice my sudden reluctance. "Is it a big spread?" he asked.

"Pretty good sized," I said. "Around 300 acres, or so."

He whistled thru his teeth. "Big."

There was a yelling outside. It sounded like Spanish. J.R. grinned. "My buddies are wondering where I went."

"Oh."

"You going to be around tomorrow?" he asked me then.

When I nodded, he said, "You want to go out somewhere then? When we're both done with work?"

I hesitated, licking my lips a little. "I can't tomorrow," I said. I motioned towards the front, as though Ivy was standing there. "Ivy's

coming to our house for supper-"

"Ivy? That her name?" he asked.

When I said yes, he explained, "I didn't know her name. My buddy Jose, he's the one who got us the job."

There was another yell from outside, and he went to the back doors, pushing it open and calling out something in Spanish.

Then he turned back to me and smiled. He came back over closer to me.

"How about tonight, then?" he asked me. "Since you can't go tomorrow?"

I was trying to decide how to answer, what to say, when he said, "Ah. You've got a boyfriend, huh?"

"It's not that," I said, so quickly that he looked amused, and I felt embarrassed.

"What is it, then?" he asked, coming a bit closer. He grinned. "I'm harmless, just like I told you."

He was darn appealing, and I was darn tempted, I tell you. But, I was trying to think of how I'd explain at home the reason for

staying in town.

"I think I can go for awhile-" I said, and his smile grew bigger.

"Yeah? Okay. Where is there around here to get a bite to eat, and a cold beer? I saw that café on the main street-"

"No," I said, so quickly, and firmly that he looked surprised. There was no way I wanted Marie to see me out with someone

who was a total stranger. She would be all over that.

"Not the café," I said. "There's the Dari Kurl."

"That the local hangout?" he asked.

I wasn't sure how old that J.R. was, or anything like that, but I knew he wasn't a teenager. And it's mostly teenagers who frequent the

Dari Kurl during the evenings.

"Yeah. Sort of. They have good burgers, though." I hoped he would agree to go to the Dari Kurl. It would be easier to be

incognito there.

"Sure. Okay. I'll go for that," he said. "You about done? I can take off any time."

I thought for a minute. I needed to call home. "A few minutes," I told him.

"Okay. I'll meet you out back, and I'll drive us over there."

I wasn't dumb. I knew better than to actually ride there with him.

"I'll meet you there," I said.

He looked amused, and I knew I hadn't fooled him. But, he only nodded, and said, "Cool. See you in a few."

As soon as he'd headed back outside, I put the dogs back into their indoor run, and hurried to the front office. I knew that

I should have just told J.R. no, thanks. I knew that it was bordering on foolish to meet up with somebody I'd just met. I knew that

nobody at home would approve. Even knowing all that, though, I wanted to meet him at the Dari Kurl. He was handsome, and

charming, and-it was exciting, meeting somebody new that was so good looking. And, I had no intention of going anywhere with him

without other people being around.

I dialed the number at home, waiting impatiently while it rang. I gave the clock a quick glance. Nearly 4:00. I usually left at 4:30, anyway.

I could probably make it home at the regular time, if J.R. and I just sat for a few minutes at the Dari Kurl. Still, it was a better idea

to at least pave the way to being late at arriving home.

Finally, the phone was picked up. Expecting Hannah to answer, or maybe Clare, I was surprised and a trifle disconcerted when it

was a male voice, instead.

"Hullo?" It was Brian.

"Hi, Bri," I said. "What are you doing inside the house at this time?"

"Hannah's got us movin' furniture around. What's up?" he asked.

"I wanted to see if it was okay if I stayed around town for a little while."

"Why? What's goin' on?"

"Just to go to the Dari Kurl for awhile," I said.

"What's 'awhile'?" he asked.

"Till five or maybe a little after," I said.

"Yeah, okay," he said.

"Thanks. I'll see you later," I told him.

We said goodbye, and I hung up. I wrote out a note for Ivy, telling her that I would see her the next day, and that

I'd make sure to lock everything up. And, I proceeded to do that, locking the front door, and then driving around to the

back of the building. J.R. and another one of the guys were standing and talking, and there was another guy still up on the roof.

I went over and made sure to lock the back door, and then when I turned around J.R. was standing there.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

7


	56. The Dari Kurl

We drove to the Dari Kurl. I led the way, and J.R. followed behind me. He was driving a Jeep. But, it was a nice Jeep. Not like

ours at home. Our Jeep is banged up and dented. It's definitely seen better days.

When we got there, I took a space at the end of the lot. I know from having worked at the Dari Kurl last year that

the car hops totally hate hiking all that way to take and deliver orders. I had hated it, myself. Especially when my feet hurt already.

But, I parked there just the same. I figured it would award the most privacy. This was just a lark. A one-time thing. That's

what I was telling myself. Therefore, I figured my choice of parking places would help with having a one-shot, unseen by others sort

of adventure.

J.R. pulled in and parked in the spot next to me, to the left. I looked over at him, and he grinned. And then he got out and

came to my passenger side, opening the door.

He stood there, instead of getting in. "Let's sit in the Jeep," he said.

A million thoughts went thru my head right then. Excitement. Little bells of warning. It would be best if he got in my truck

with me, instead. I'd be more in control of the situation then.

"We can sit in here," I said.

J.R. didn't seem shook by my suggestion. He said, sounding breezy, "Okay," and stepped back over to his Jeep, reaching in and

picking something up from behind the seat. He came back over and got into my truck. setting down what he had in his hand.

A six-pack of Budweiser. He reached out to take one of the cans, popping the top.

"Help yourself," he said, taking a long drink.

"Not right now," I said.

"So, the burgers here are good, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, they are," I said, and saw Bets, the car hop, heading our way.

As soon as Bets was nearly to my window, J.R. said, "Order whatever you want. I'm paying."

Bets put her head in the window, looking curious.

"Hi there, Harlie," she greeted me, eyeing J.R.

"Hi, Bets."

"What can I get ya?" she asked.

"I'll take a cheeseburger and fries," J.R. said. "Harlie?"

"A cheeseburger for me, too," I told Bets.

"Fries?" she asked me.

"No. Just the cheeseburger," I said.

"Okay," Bets said, still looking over J.R., and not writing anything down on her pad.

"Thanks, Bets," I said, hoping to hurry her along her way.

"Daniel coming home for the wedding next week?" Bets asked me.

"Yeah. He is."

"Tell him to stop in and say hi, alright?"

"I will." I didn't spare more than a moment right then, to ponder the everlasting torch that Bets has carried for Daniel. Years and years.

After Bets had started back towards the building, to get our orders, I looked back to J.R. He smiled at me, and

said easily, "So. Tell me about yourself."

"There's not much to tell, really," I said.

"Ah, I'll bet there is," he denied. "How long have you lived around here?"

"All my life."

"No kidding?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"No kidding."

"My pop was in the army, so we did nothing but move around, the whole time I was a kid."

"So, you've lived in lots of places, then?" I asked.

"Too many to count. The girl that took our order, who's this Daniel she was talking about?"

"My brother."

"He don't live 'round here?"

"No. He lives in Tennessee."

"That's some distance," J.R. said, and I nodded in agreement, remembering that I knew first-hand how long that it really was.

"So, he's coming for a visit?"

"Yeah. For my brother Evan's wedding."

"How old's he? The one that's getting married?" he asked.

"Twenty-three."

"Why's he want to get married at 23?" J.R. asked.

I wasn't sure how to answer that. I mean, I knew that 23 was still young and all, but it was old enough to get married. At least, if it was

somebody like Evan, and Nancy, who both knew their own minds, and knew what they wanted.

"He met the right girl," I settled for saying.

"You like her? The chick he's gonna marry?"

"Yeah. I like her."

"My brother's married, and his old lady's a real piece of work. A bitch for sure and certain."

"That's too bad," I said.

"Yeah," he said, and drank down the rest of his beer. He tossed the can out the open window, having it land in the back seat

of his Jeep. "Sure you don't want one?" he asked me, reaching for another can of beer.

"No. Thanks."

"You don't like beer, I'll bet. I could have gotten some Boone's Farm for you."

"That's okay."

"Well, maybe next time, huh?" he suggested. He took a pack of Camels out of his shirt pocket, and shook one out.

"Want one?" he offered, holding the pack out to me.

"No. Thanks."

J.R. put the pack back into his shirt pocket, and took a couple of long draws on his cigarette.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing. He was watching me with this really intense expression on his face. And then, he reached out

and tugged on the collar of my shirt. "You're too far away, over there."

I sat still, and he moved the beer from the center of the seat, to the floor, and then moved over himself. Not quite next to me, but

closer than he'd been.

"So," he said, keeping his fingers on my collar, "How long you been working for the lady vet?"

"A few months."

"You like it?"

"Yeah. I do."

"It's a good job, huh?" J.R. asked.

"Yeah. Sometimes you run into people who don't treat their animals right, or that don't believe in a female vet, and so that's not so good."

There was silence for a moment or two. He was just looked at me. Intently, still.

"So, how long before you finish the roof?" I asked.

"A few more days, I guess."

"Then where will you go?" I asked. He grinned at me, and I thought I must have sounded too interested.

"Wherever then next job is."

"You don't know?" I asked, amazed.

"Nah. We usually just drift around, till we find a job that needs doing."

I couldn't imagine that sort of life. Not knowing where you were going to be at next. Not having a set home.

"Do you like that?" I asked him. "Drifting around?"

"Sure. It's the only way to live. Never gets boring." He took a couple more puffs on the cigarette, and then leaned forward, crushing it out

in the ash tray.

Bets was heading our way now, carrying our orders. I hoped that J.R. would move back over to his own side of the truck seat. Bets

wasn't known for being a gossip, but I'd rather not take any chances on that.

But, J.R. sat where he was. Bets handed our food in, and J.R. passed some money to her.

"Keep the change," he told Bets, and she gave him a dazzling smile.

"Wow. Thanks a lot. See you, Harlie."

"Bye, Bets," I said.

When she gone, J.R. made quick work of his cheeseburger and fries. He finished his second beer and began on a third.

I ate my cheeseburger, though it wasn't the most easy eating I've ever done. It was hard to eat, just normally, as if I wasn't

sitting just inches from a guy I'd only just met. A good-looking guy. Once he'd finished, J.R. rested his can of beer on one leg,

and then laid his other arm on the top of the seat, just barely touching my shoulders.

I hadn't finished my cheeseburger, and when he did that, I just held it in my hand.

"Let me see your eyes," J.R. said.

I felt startled. "What?" I asked.

"I just wanna look," he said.

I turned just a bit, and he said, "They're real pretty. Your eyes."

I couldn't remember anybody ever saying anything about the color of my eyes before. My hair, for sure. I've heard comments about it

all my life. But, not my eyes.

I held my breath a little. "Thanks," I said.

"They're sort of green right now. But earlier they were bluish."

After a moment or so, he said, sounding amused, "Hasn't anybody ever told you before, how pretty they are?"

"No."

"They tell you that you're pretty, though. And, I'll bet they say stuff about your hair, too. Don't they?"

I nodded, seemingly not capable of speech.

"Well, your hair is real nice," he said, reaching to rub one of my curls between his fingers. "But, it's your eyes that get to me."

I swear, I couldn't swallow. Or speak. I thought for sure that he was going to kiss me right then. And, I wasn't going to raise

up a holler about it, either.

But, he didn't. He kept his face close to mine, but he didn't kiss me. We just sat like that for a while, in quiet, with one of his hands

wrapped in my hair, and the other hand holding mine. Eventually, he lit another cigarette to smoke.

Cars around us came and went. I had no idea what time it was getting to be.

"Do you have a watch?" I asked him, finally.

"Nope. Time's just a number," he said.

Now, what was that supposed to mean? It sounded like something I'd heard that the hippies of the 1960's had said.

"I need to find out the time," I said, trying to look around.

There were kids walking past. They were kids from the junior high. I recognized a couple of them as younger siblings of

a girl in my class.

"Hey, kid," J.R. called out to them. "You know what time it is?"

The middle school boy paused, and checked, and then hollered back. "Almost five-thirty!"

Five-thirty! There was no way it could be that time already!

"I've got to go," I said, and I guess my regret seeped thru, because J.R. just smiled.

"What's the hurry?" he asked.

"I need to get home."

"How come?"

"I've got things I have to do," I said vaguely.

"I was thinking we could go listen to some music somewhere. Anywhere around here that we could do that?" he asked.

"There is, but I can't." I forced myself to meet his eyes, and tried to sound firm. "I really do have to go."

He sighed, and looked genuinely sorry. "Well, damn," he said. "So maybe we can meet up tomorrow? Before the lady vet

goes over to your house to dinner?" He put out the cigarette in the ash tray.

"I don't know-" I began.

"Well, I'll see you tomorrow, anyway," J.R. said. "We can talk some more then." He let loose of my hand, and reached up to

touch my face with his fingers. "Right?"

"Yeah. Okay," I said.

He smiled at me. Sort of a lazy smile, as if he had all the time in the world. "Sure you have to go?" he asked.

"I'm sure."

He smiled again, and got out, taking the last three beers with him. He'd put them into the back seat of his Jeep, and turned to

wave at me. I waved back, and then started for home.

I drove as fast as I dared to. I still had occasional times when I felt that karma, or whatever, was going to bite me by having a

deer jump in front of my truck, since I'd lied about it that one time.

I had the beginnings of a headache, which I didn't understand. I'd eaten a hamburger, and hadn't had any candy or soda

at the Dari Kurl. The family was probably in the midst of the evening meal by now. We usually try to eat by five-thirty or a little

before, because there are always chores to finish, and then everybody wants to get cleaned up from being outside working all day.

I was estimating that, if it had been about five-thirty or a little after when I started heading home, that I would get there before

six. Maybe at ten minutes to.

When I got home, I parked in my regular spot, beside Guthrie's truck. There was nobody outside. All inside eating. I went up the

front stairs, and deposited my school stuff onto the sofa. The sofa, which was in an entirely new location. Everything

was moved around. I could tell that Hannah's plan had been to try to make the room seem larger, for all the

guests coming to the wedding. I could hear the mingling of all the voices coming from the kitchen.

I took a deep breath, and headed into the kitchen, and towards the sink to wash up. Some talking continued, but there

were general 'hey's' and 'hello's' thrown my way.

"Hi, everybody," I said.

I dried my hands, and went to sit down in my chair.

I risked a look towards Adam, and at Brian, too. Adam was talking to Evan, and it was hard to get a good look at Brian, since

he sits on the same side of the table as I do.

"Did you have fun?" Hannah asked me, as she spooned baby food into Isaac's little bird mouth.

"Uh huh," I said.

"Good," she said. "Well, start eating."

I filled my plate with some of the vegetables, carrot sticks and raw cauliflower, and then took a piece of roast beef.

"Who were you hanging out with?" Guthrie asked me.

"Pass the bread, please," I told him. The bread platter was sitting just to the other side of Guthrie.

Guthrie pushed it my way, and I took a thick slice of the bread.

"Huh?" he persisted.

"Butter, please," I told Guthrie.

He handed me the butter, and said, "Who all was hangin' around there today?"

"Some middle-schoolers," I said, without thinking it out.

"So you're hangin' 'round with middle-schoolers now, huh, Har?" he taunted.

"Sure, Guthrie," I said, and shot him a look intended to make him shut up.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

Guthrie was giving me a puzzled frown, and I just returned his look, hoping he would understand what I was saying without

words.

After that, Guthrie returned to his own meal. Everybody else was mostly done eating, and getting ready to stand up, all still

talking. Isaac was busy, alternately putting green beans in his mouth and throwing them on the floor.

I continued eating, crunching on my carrot sticks.

"You gonna see about havin' your horse's teeth floated soon?" Evan asked, pushing his plate up, and resting his arms on

the table.

I nodded and he went on, "You need to be havin' it taken care of," Evan continued.

I felt a flash of irritation. "I know, Ev," I said. "Ivy's coming over tomorrow to check it out."

"During the day?" Adam asked me, from his end of the table. "I can't guarantee that any of us will be around-"

"No, not during the day. In the afternoon, after work," I said. "And then, she's staying for supper."

There was silence for a couple of moments, and I looked up, and around the room. "That's alright, isn't it?" I asked, looking

at Hannah. "That I asked her to eat?"

"Of course it is," Hannah said.

Everybody had gotten so quiet all of a sudden, that it felt weird. I looked at Crane. He was stacking plates, and I couldn't tell

what he was thinking.

I was still eating when Brian spoke from where he was, as he was running hot water in the sink for dishes.

"Harlie. Dish duty."

Inwardly, I groaned. Dishes, and I still had my regular chores to do, and then homework-agh! Still, it had been worth it, having that

time with J.R. at the Dari Kurl.

"Okay," I said, finishing up my meat, and then taking my plate over to the counter. Still munching on a carrot stick, I went to get

a dish towel from the drawer.

Eventually, the kitchen thinned out, and it was just Brian and I. Him washing, and me drying.

"You were late," Brian said.

I'd hoped that he, or anybody else, wouldn't say anything.

"Just a little," I said, giving him a sideways glance. "I still got here in time for supper."

"You've still got your chores to do," he reminded me. Unnecessarily.

"I know."

I went outside as soon as we were done, tending to the goats, and then feeding and watering Dark Commander. Evan

came along, and informed me that I needed to help him muck out stalls.

By now it had to be after seven, probably more like seven-thirty.

Now, I groaned outwardly. Not to myself like I had when Brian had mentioned the dishes. I actually made a 'gahhh'

sound. I was tired. I had homework. I wanted to be done with everything so I could think about J.R., and the things he'd said.

"Now?" I protested.

"No. Next December. Of course now," Evan said, sarcastically.

"Maybe Guthrie can help-" I said, depositing the bucket I'd been carrying back onto its hook.

Evan walked on, ignoring what I'd said. I sighed, and followed him to the barn, where he began on one stall, and I worked

on another.

Pepe was making high, anxious sounds from his stall/home. I leaned my pitchfork against the stall wall, and went over to check

on Pepe. I picked him up, snuggling him against my chest.

"Come on," Evan said, after a few minutes had gone by. "I've got three hours of work left to do today."

"Alright, alright," I said. I took Pepe with me, into the stall I'd been cleaning, and went back to forking the soiled hay into

a wheelbarrow. Pepe entertained himself, snooping into the corners.

Evan came out of his stall, and looked into the one I was working in.

"Two more to do," he said.

I paused, leaning on my pitchfork. "I've got homework," I said.

Evan gave me a look. "Yeah?" he said.

"I'll do your next dish night, if you let me go after I finish this one," I coaxed.

"Uh huh," Evan said, sounding doubtful.

"I will, Ev." I held out one hand, extending my little finger. "I'll pinky swear," I said, giving him a hopeful smile.

Evan sighed, and waved his hand at me. "Ah, go on then."

"Thanks," I told him, and as he went to begin on another stall, he said, "Put that darn skunk up before you go in."

7


	57. Tangled webs

The next morning, I was stuffing things into my backpack, getting ready to head out to school. The house was a hubbub, as was

usual. Brian caught me before I left the living room, and said, "Ivy's coming over this afternoon, huh? To look at your horse's teeth?"

"That's the plan," I said.

"Well, after she does what needs doing, you might think about moving him out into the pasture with the other horses. We're gonna

need the corral soon," he said.

"Okay," I agreed.

I was on my way shortly after that, with Guthrie and I doing what kids in the country do sometimes. He would come up

behind me in his truck, on the road just past our house, and then pass me, and then a bit further up, I would do the same to him. We stopped doing it,

of course, when we reached the more traveled roads.

It's something that Daniel and Evan used to do when they were in high school, although Guthrie and I aren't near as reckless

about it as they were. At least, the way that I remember it, anyway.

I tried to focus at school, but my mind wouldn't cooperate. I kept thinking how fun it had been to hang out with J.R. the

afternoon before. Something out of the ordinary. Something sort of exciting.

When I got to Ivy's I went towards the back, even before I changed to my work clothes. I found Ivy clipping the toenails of the Burke's

poodle.

"Boy, am I glad to see you," she said to me, in greeting.

"What's up?" I asked, reaching out to pet the aged poodle.

"I'm having a hard time with this one, and the phone keeps ringing-it's been a crazy day. And, the guys out there-" she motioned with

her head towards the back door.

I wondered what she meant by that, and asked, "What's wrong with them?"

"I should have listened to Crane-he tried to tell me," Ivy went on. And then, in an abrupt change of topic she asked me to

hold the poodle while she finished clipping his toe nails.

"Can you get him bathed after this?" Ivy was asking then.

I said yes, that I would do that. I had the poodle in my arms, and was watching her as she picked up the supplies, and was

wiping her hands on her jeans.

"What did Crane tell you?" I asked, my curiousity getting the best of me.

"He said I should hire somebody from Angels Camp, that's known for their business reputation around here, but I was trying to

save money, so I didn't listen to his advice. These guys were cheap."

"You don't think they're doing a good job?" I asked, half-dreading her answer.

"I don't think they're doing much of anything," Ivy said. "It seems like they spend most of their time sitting around. They

were playing cards today instead of working."

"Well, they'll finish and do a good job, because they'll want to get paid," I said. "Right?"

"I hope," she said, and then said, "I gave them half of the money on the upfront, which I know now that I should not

have done."

"Oh," I said, feeling sort of weird about what she'd said about the guys. Surely, they won't going to take advantage of

Ivy. I went to the back and started running warm water in the big sink at the back that is used for bathing smaller dogs.

While it was running, I went to the double doors to look out, still holding the dog. I hadn't planned on making myself visible, but

just thought I'd see what the roofers were doing. J.R. in particular.

They weren't doing a whole lot of anything right at that point. Sitting around, on upturned wheelbarrows and concrete blocks, and

talking. I could see quite plainly piles of shingles still on the barn roof, and lots of trash and broken shingles all over the ground.

I sort of hoped that J.R. would notice me, standing there, and he did.

"Hey! Hi!" he said, and got up from the block he'd been sitting on. Walking over to me, grinning.

"Hi," I said.

"I thought I'd see you before now-where have you been?"

"This is the time I usually get here," I said.

"Oh, yeah? You got another job besides this one?" he asked, looking impressed.

It was then that I realized that he thought I was older than I really was. It hadn't even occurred to him that I might still be in

high school. How old did he think I was, for gosh sakes?

I was hesitating over my answer, when one of the other guys hollered to him. He waved a hand at him, and then

said, "So, today how about we go get a real meal somewhere? Somewhere decent, like a steakhouse."

"I can't," I said, though I wished that I could say 'yes'. "I've got a thing-Ivy has to look at my horse's teeth."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "I forgot about that." He paused, and stepped closer. "Me and the guys, we found a real nice

place over in Lodi, a steakhouse. You ever been there?"

Lodi is over an hour away, and I couldn't recall ever eating in a restaurant there.

I shook my head in response.

"Well, I'll take you there. My treat. A steak, and then we'll get a bottle of wine. How's that sound?" he asked.

"I can't," I said, again.

"Well, damn," he said, but mildly, not as though he was mad. "Tomorrow, then?"

I knew there was no chance that I was going to go to Lodi with him tomorrow, either, but I just said, "I don't know."

"Let's cut out of here early today," he suggested then. "We'll go somewhere, and I'll get you back here in plenty of time to go tend to

your horse."

The other men were standing up, and preparing to get atop the roof again.

"How about an hour?" he said. "You cut out, and drive to that place we were at yesterday, and I'll meet you there."

I like to think I would have protested, but he turned and went to join the other guys.

I went to give the poodle a bath. I was focusing so hard on my own thoughts that I didn't even hear Ivy when she first spoke to me.

"Hey," she said, and I jumped, startled.

"Sorry," she said.

"It's okay."

"I'm going to do a couple calls before I head over to your house. Want to come along?"

Fate was stepping in.

"No, I'll stay here and answer the phone," I told her.

"Okay. Just take messages, and if it's nothing too urgent, you can just tell me tonight what calls came in," Ivy said.

I said okay, and she prepared to leave.

"You're okay with staying here, with those guys outside?" she asked me.

"Yeah. I did it yesterday," I reminded her.

"I know. I just want to make sure," Ivy said. She was regarding me with those vivid green eyes, and I felt a little guilty. As if I was

deceiving her, or something.

"It's okay," I assured her. And then that guilt had me speaking out. "One of them is actually real nice."

Ivy, who'd been in the process of gathering things to put into her bag for her house calls, paused to stare at me.

"I didn't realize you'd actually talked to any of them," she said, looking, what I thought, was a little concerned.

"Yeah, I did," I said. And then, because I didn't want her to keep looking at me that way, or mention anything to Crane, I

said, "It's no big deal. He was just being nice."

"Oh," she said, still sounding sort of funny. "Well, I'm going to go ahead and lock up the back before I go. That way that's all

done, and none of them will be coming inside. Okay?"

I told her okay, I mean she would have thought it way strange if I hadn't. She did that, and then left, saying she would see

me over at my house right around four o'clock.

When she'd gone, I went up front to tidy the office, and answer the phone. I swept up, giving myself a talking-to the whole time.

I had my mind made up, so when J.R., a short time later, came in thru the front door, I felt as though I was prepared.

"How's come the back's all locked up?" he asked me.

"Ivy locked it," I said.

"Where's she?" he asked.

I hesitated. Then I told myself I was being silly. I was perfectly safe. Five feet from the street, with familiar people

going past all the while.

"She had to go make some calls," I said.

"That worked out real well," he said. "Let's take off, then."

"I have to stay here," I said, trying to sound firm. "I have to answer the phone and take messages and stuff."

I thought he might try to argue me out of that idea, but he didn't. A fact which I thought raised my opinion of him.

"Okay. Sure," he said. "Well, I'll be right back, then."

I watched him long enough to see that he walked around the side of the building again. Then I went back to sweeping, feeling all

sorts of things. I was telling myself that there was nothing wrong with J.R. coming into the office and sitting around for a while with me.

I brushed aside the feeling that Ivy wouldn't like it. She'd said that she didn't think that any of the roofers needed to be coming

inside.

When J.R. came back in just a few minutes, I was on the phone, talking to somebody about their sick cat. I went ahead and

made an appointment for the cat to be brought in the following morning. I'd have to remember to tell Ivy.

J.R. was carrying a six-pack of beer, and a sack that looked as though it held a bottle.

I finished my phone conversation, and hung up, looking at him, and feeling a little weird. Shy. Sort of.

"I got you some Boone's Farm," he told me. "You got any glasses around here?"

"I don't want anything to drink," I was saying, as he began to root thru the cabinets. Which was, I knew, sort of presumptive of him.

"Surely she's got some paper cups around here," he said, opening and closing cabinets.

"It's okay," I said. "Don't worry about it." I had no intention of drinking.

"Hey, here we go," J.R. said, and held up a coffee cup that he pulled forward from the back of a cabinet.

I felt as though I'd been slapped. It hit me that hard.

"Not that cup!" I burst out, and went to take it from him, putting it back on the shelf where it had been, and closing the

door. It had been a long time since I'd seen that cup out. About nine months to be exact. Since Doc G.

"Whoa," J.R. said. "What's wrong?"

"It's just-" I hesitated. "That cup belonged to somebody-the vet here before Ivy. He died last year."

"Oh, wow," J.R. said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just don't want to use it. You know?" I asked, hoping that he understood.

"Sure. No problem," he said.

He opened a can of the Coors, and then took the bottle of wine out of the paper sack.

He hitched himself up to sit on the desk, pushing aside some of Ivy's catalogs and papers.

For a few moments there was silence, and then he said, "Come on and sit beside me." He patted the small area of desk

next to him that was uncluttered.

I hesitated, and then went to pull myself up beside him. He set his beer down and opened the wine.

"You can drink out of the bottle," he said. "Here," he added, and offered it to me.

"I really don't want any," I said.

He gave me a more concentrated look. "You got something against having a drink?" he asked, setting the bottle down.

"No. It's just-I don't think I should, while I'm working," I said.

"You've got honest to goodness scruples," he said.

I couldn't tell if he was making fun of me, or not. I thought that he might be, though.

"I guess so," I said, sort of stiffly.

For a long moment there was silence, and then he reached over and took my hand, squeezing it.

"It's cool. Really."

After that he talked, and I talked some, and he drank, one beer after the other. Our conversation was

about places he'd traveled to, drifting around. I asked him about his family, and he acted sort of funny.

"Just the one brother, and his wife," he said.

"Do you see them a lot?" I asked.

"Hardly ever."

"Oh," I said, feeling sorry for him at that moment. It must be sad, to be all alone like that. I couldn't imagine not

having family around.

"How about you?" he asked then. "You've got the two brothers, right? One in Tennessee, and one that's getting married?"

Even at that moment, I thought that he must really be interested in me, if he could remember details like that.

"More than two," I said.

"Yeah?" he asked.

I settled for saying, "Yeah. There's a bunch of us." I didn't feel like getting into the whole seven brothers-no parents thing. Not

right then.

After that, conversation sort of lagged. J.R. got quiet, and so did I. He put his right arm around my waist, pulling me over

closer. "Sure you don't want a sip?" he asked me, holding his can of beer up to my lips.

For just a moment I was tempted. What harm would one or two sips do? He was sort of tickling my side, and I giggled,

and then I was just totally shocked when the door opened and the little bell hanging over it rang.

I'd had my head bent close to J.R.'s, laughing, and I turned to see Kenny standing there.

7


	58. Eyes of disappointment

It was one of those moments in time, when everything just seems to come to a complete stand-still. When Kenny came in the

door that way.

I sat up straight, really fast, and hopped down from Ivy's desk, feeling as though I was in a slow-motion movie.

"Hey, Kenny," I said, feeling awkward as all get-out.

"Hi, Harlie," Kenny said. His tone was quiet, but I could hear the reproval, the censure, in it.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him.

"I saw your truck-I thought I'd stop and say hello," Kenny answered. He was still standing there, just inside the doorway, the

door still open.

"Oh," I said. I looked from Kenny back to J.R. J.R. was looking unconcerned, a trifle bored. He took a long drink from

his can of beer.

There was silence in the small room. I felt compelled to speak.

"This is J.R.," I told Kenny. "And this is Kenny," I said to J.R.

"Hey," Kenny said.

"How you doin'?" J.R. said.

Kenny seemed less than warm in his manner, and J.R. was plainly indifferent.

"J.R.'s working on Ivy's roof," I said, in a rush. "Him and his crew, I mean."

Kenny bobbed his head in response. Again, there was silence.

"I better get going," Kenny said, very abruptly. And, with that, he turned and went out, shutting the door behind him.

I swung a glance at J.R., who appeared amused. At that moment, I didn't even want to delve into the reason why he might be

amused. I opened the just-shut door, and went outside. Kenny was nearly half-way up the street, walking fast. Walking so fast, in fact,

that I had to jog to catch up to him.

"Kenny," I said, and then, louder, "Kenny!"

Still, he walked on, as if he didn't hear me.

I jogged faster. "Kenny, please!"

Well, that got to him. He slowed down, and then stopped, turning to face me as I finally reached him.

He didn't help me out. He just stood there, looking at me.

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea," I began by saying.

When he was silent, just looking at me seriously, I went on. "By seeing me sitting with J.R., I mean-"

"What idea do you think that I have?" he countered, quietly.

Looking at his face, all serious, I felt his judgement.

"I was hanging out with him-" I said. "Don't make it more than it was."

"How well do you know this guy?" he asked.

"Not real well," I admitted.

"You think drinkin' in the office like that is a good idea?" he asked.

I felt my face flame. Kenny was right and I knew it. I'd known it all along.

"I mean, Ivy trusts you and all-" Kenny went on.

"I know that!" I snapped. "I don't need you to lecture me, Kenny! I mean-" I stopped talking with a suddenness, and

Kenny gave me a look that could only be described as sorrowful.

"You mean, who am _I_ to give you advice?" Kenny said. "I'm just a jailbird, right?" He didn't sound angry, though. Just resigned.

I felt so badly then that I thought I was going to throw up.

He regarded me, still serious, but looking sad.

"I don't think of you that way," I said, wanting to be indignant, but not coming off that way.

We were both quiet, looking at each other. Then he sighed. "Yeah. I know."

"You're right," I admitted. "About him drinking in the office." I could tell what he was thinking, and I went on, "I wasn't drinking. I know

it looked like I was-but I wasn't."

"That's good," Kenny said.

Then there was silence.

"He's just someone new," I said. "I mean, we were just hanging out-"

"Don't, Harlie," Kenny said.

"Don't what?" I asked.

"Don't feel like you have to explain him to me. I mean, it's not as though I have any hold or you, or anything like that."

Even as he said that, though, I could see that he was hurt. Very, very hurt. His words meant to convey that he was not, but the

upset in his eyes told me differently.

"Kenny-"

"I've got to go," Kenny said. "Dad's down at the feed store. I just walked up to say hi to you. I need to get back."

"Oh. Okay," I said, lamely.

I saw Kenny's line of sight travel, and I turned to see J.R. standing out front of the vet office, leaning against my truck.

"I'll see ya," he said, and I turned back towards him in a rush.

I spoke swiftly. "Daniel will be home in a couple of days. Will you come over? You can come for supper-"

"Maybe," he said.

"Kenny-"

"Be careful, okay? You don't know what kind of a guy he is," Kenny said.

"Don't tell Guthrie-okay?" I said. I hadn't meant to say that, but it just came out.

Kenny gave me a long, sad look. "I'll see ya," he said, again, and turned to walk down the wooden sidewalk.

I would have called after him again, but there wasn't any point. I turned to start back towards the vet office. I felt

tired and wrung out. J.R. was still leaning against the side of my truck, smoking. He looked faintly amused as I walked

up.

"Everything okay?" he asked me.

"Not really," I said, in honesty.

"That your boyfriend, huh?"

"It's sort of complicated," I said, and he smiled as if I'd said something funny.

"Yeah. Life is." He tossed down his cigarette and crushed it with his boot. "Let's go for a ride."

"I don't know what time it is," I said.

"It's around 4:30," J.R. said.

"It can't be-" I said, feeling panicky. I went back into the office, to check the clock. It confirmed that J.R. was approximately close.

Only it was worse. 4:40 was the actual time.

I grabbed my backpack with my school clothes and stuff, and turned off the lights, locking the door and closing it.

"I've got to go," I said to J.R. opening my truck door and tossing my backpack into the seat.

"Alright," he said, not seeming bothered. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. I guess," I said, feeling as though my panic was rising.

J.R. stepped closer to me. He reached out to lift a strand of my hair, and then leaned in and gave me a quick kiss

on my cheek. "Try to relax," he said.

Easy for him to say. "Sure," I said. I got into the truck seat, and closed the door.

He stepped away, as I started the motor, and began to back out. He smiled. It was still a nice smile, but at that moment,

I couldn't really enjoy it at all.

I drove home way too fast. By the time I got home, Ivy would have been there at least an hour already. Everybody would be

wondering where I was at. Halfway home, I thought maybe it would have been better if I'd called, and said I was running late. That might

have taken the edge off the irritation that would be facing me. Too late, now. I hadn't called, so I would just have to deal with things.

I had to remind myself to slow down before I reached the driveway. It wouldn't help things if I came flying up the driveway, all

reckless.

As I drove up, I saw Ivy's truck, backed up to the corral, for easy access to her supplies, and she was in the corral with Dark

Commander. Brian was there with her, as was Crane. Brian was helping to hold Dark Commander, and Crane stood near Ivy,

and after I'd parked, and was walking quickly that way, I saw that Crane was holding supplies.

When a horse's teeth are being floated, their head has to be held up. Sometimes people tie a halter with a rope to a barn beam or something to

keep the head up, but here in the corral, Brian was doing that job. Dark Commander's mouth was being held open with a mouth

speculum, and Ivy was using a rasp to even up his teeth.

I went around to the corral gate, and opened it, going in that way instead of climbing over and jumping down.

I walked up quietly, and for a few seconds I felt so awkward, as if I was interrupting something. Which was stupid. It was my horse

that was being worked on. I knew that feeling that way was due to my own feelings of guilt, about where I'd been, and that I hadn't stopped

J.R. from drinking in Ivy's office, all of that.

The first one of the three to speak to me as I walked up, was Crane.

"We were wondering where you were," he told me.

"Sorry I'm late," I said.

"Everything okay at the office?" Ivy asked me, continuing with her filing.

"Yeah. Everything's okay," I said. "I locked up."

I stepped over closer to the front, to watch Ivy work. "Are they bad?" I asked her.

"Yeah, they're pretty bad," she said. "It was well past time for them to be floated."

I looked towards Brian, and that's when I knew I was sunk. He returned my glance with one of his own. He had the look

about him that all of us younger kids learned to instantly recognize. It wasn't so much a look of fury, but more, a set of his

jaw, and a glint in his eye.

"He's got some sores, to the side," Ivy said, motioning me closer. "See, Harlie?"

I tried to tamp down my worry about Brian, and pay attention. I could see the red spots Ivy pointed to.

"From his teeth rubbing?" I asked.

"Right. He should feel a lot better now, and if he's out where he can graze, that will help keep the teeth even. Being shut up in

pens and things the way that he likely has been for a long time, hasn't helped him any," Ivy said.

"We'll turn him out later tonight," Brian spoke up. "Maybe some elder horse feed first, here in the corral?"  
"That's a good idea," Ivy said.

Ivy patted Dark Commander, and she and Crane began to pick up supplies and take them towards the gate, to take to her

truck. Brian was taking off the halter, and I went quickly to the feed shed, putting some of the senior horse food in a bucket,

and taking it back to the corral.

Nancy came roaring up in her little red car, waving merrily at all of us as she headed inside the house.

I met Brian, coming out of the corral, just as I was heading back in, with the feed.

He paused there, and I forced myself to meet his eyes.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"I got held up-" I began.

"Harlie, stop," he said curtly.

I got quiet, looking at him.

"I don't want to hear any crap. I just want to know where you were," Brian said.

"Talking," I said. "I was talking."

I was waiting for Brian to ask me who it was that I'd been talking to, to make me so late. I would have to tell him the truth, and

when I did that, he really would hand me my behind.

He didn't ask that, though. I couldn't feel any real relief about it, though, because it didn't get much better.

His eyes were flashing, and he said, "And that talking was more important than being here, where you should have been? Here, with

your horse?"

"No," I said, subdued. "Not more important."

Brian made sort of a 'humph' sound, and then he said, "Feed your horse, and then come to the barn. I want to talk to you."

'Going to the barn' can mean just that. Meet in the barn, for some ranch-related reason. It can also, be a euphemism for

being in trouble. There were plenty of times when being 'taken to the barn' meant that one of the boys was going to

get a spanking. I'd even gotten one or two of those in the barn myself.

I nibbled at my lips in nervousness. I didn't think that whatever Brian had to say was going to entail him taking me

in hand physically. But, you never know. And, besides, if he kept on, and I had to tell him about J.R., then there was no hope

for me.

I realized that he was still standing there, waiting for me to answer, because he said, sounding irritated, "Harlie? Hear me?"

I nodded, without speaking, and he turned to go. I fed Dark Commander, and watched as he began nibbling at the feed.

Already he seemed to be eating easier, keeping more in his mouth while chewing, but maybe that was just wishful thinking on

my part. I went out of the corral, and took the bucket back to the feed shed, getting the goat feed, and going to feed them.

Crane and Ivy had disappeared. Probably gone inside. I wished that I could go inside, too. I returned the empty bucket

for the final time, and then closed up the feed shed, going towards the barn.

When I stepped inside, I saw Brian at the back, near the shelves that reach all the way to the ceiling almost.

He was picking up assorted old coffee cans, sorting thru them, as though he was looking for something. I went to stand nearby.

Brian wasted no time in coming to the point.

He stopped messing around with the cans, and turned to face me. "You knew Ivy was coming today, to work on your horse," he said.

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," I said.

"But you don't get here until she's got the job nearly done," he stated. "This is the first of probably a lot of medical care

he's going to need, and you can't even be bothered to be here."

I was still feeling horrible about Kenny. I knew I'd hurt him, and so all of that, and now Brian was blasting me. I

knew I was going to cry if I didn't get a grip on myself.

"You swore up and down that you wanted that horse," Brian said. "That you were ready to do what needed to be done. This

afternoon sure as heck doesn't show that."

"I know," I said, feeling miserable.

Brian looked considering for a long moment, and said, "I was in your corner with this whole Dark Commander thing."

"I know you were," I said.

"I thought you could handle it. Have you changed your mind, about wanting the horse?"

"No!" I said, fiercely. "I haven't changed my mind." I swiped at my cheek, willing myself not to start bawling.

Brian surveyed me, looking stern, but was quiet.

"It won't happen again, Bri," I promised.

Quiet, still, for a few moments, and then he said, "Alright."

I let out a breath of relief that I hadn't known I was holding.

When we went inside, to join the rest of the family, as supper was put onto the table, and rowdy hubbub ensued, I was

quiet. Before they sat down, I saw Brian talking to Crane, and I knew he was likely telling Crane that he'd given me a talking-to

for being late.

The table was squeezed full, with Nancy, and Ivy, too.

Ivy stayed around after we ate, helping to do the dishes, though she was told by several of the family that she

didn't need to.

After that, she and Crane went for a walk.

I went upstairs as soon as I was able to, wanting to avoid everybody. I couldn't stop thinking over the facts that

Kenny had made some valid points earlier, and Brian had done the same.

It wasn't one of my days to be proud of.

7


	59. Afterthoughts

The house was abuzz with noise and activity, but after I took a shower, and got into my pajamas, I went to my room

and shut the door. I turned off my light, and got into bed, determined to go to sleep. My body had other ideas, I guess, because

sleep did not come easily. I kept hearing noise up and down the stairs and in the hallway. Talking, pounding, laughter.

I covered my head with my pillow, but that didn't work to drown out the noise.

There was a light rapping on my door, and I sat up, frustrated.

"What?!" I asked.

"Harlie, it's Nancy. Can I come in?"

"Yeah," I said, and reached over to turn on my lamp, just as Nancy was opening the door and coming in.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Were you asleep?"

"Not hardly," I said. "Who can sleep around here, with all the noise?"

"It is a little noisy, isn't it?" Nancy said, coming over closer to my bed.

"More than a little," I said. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Nothing in particular," she said. "We just haven't had a chance lately to chat." She plopped down on the opposite end of my bed,

tucking her legs up underneath.

"I guess that's right," I agreed.

"So? What's new and exciting with you?" she asked.

I shrugged and shook my head in dismissal.

"Oh, come on," she coaxed. "Nothing at all? No good gossip from the high school, or anything?"

"Not really."

"Well, what about the reception? We're going to have some music, you know, and people are going to be able to

dance. I know Daniel and some other guys played for Brian and Clare's wedding reception, but we're just going to have

some tapes playing. Evan and I thought that way Daniel would be able to mingle more and visit with everybody. You don't think he'll

mind, do you?"

"I don't think he will," I said, and Nancy chattered on.

"Are you going to have a date? I figured Kenny would be around, probably."

At the thought of Kenny, I felt nearly sick at my stomach. Of course Kenny would be around at the reception. His parents would

be here, and so would he. Maybe he wouldn't even be talking to me at all by that time. It was possible.

"Won't he?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah. I'm sure he will be," I said.

"I think Ford is having his new girlfriend come for the reception. Not for the ceremony, but after."

At the mention of Felicity, I remembered. I'd invited Bill to come along with her. Why had I done that?

I sighed heavily.

"What's wrong?" Nancy asked me.

"I told Bill he could come with Felicity."

"Oh." Nancy looked thoughtful. "Is that going to be a problem with Kenny?"

"I don't know," I said. "Kenny's upset, anyway-"

"He is?"

I regarded her, and then said, "Uh huh."

"If you and Kenny don't have an understanding, then he can't expect you to not date Bill," Nancy said. "I mean, well, he can

expect that you won't, but he shouldn't get mad about it."

When I was silent, she said, "Of course, guys are funny that way. Just don't be real obvious about it. You know, don't rub it in his face."

"It's not about Bill. Why Kenny's upset, I mean," I said.

"Oh. Well, why is he then?" she asked.

I studied her, debating about confiding in her. I wouldn't tell Hannah about J.R., because she is more of a 'parental' figure

to me. I knew she would go ballistic on me, and tell Adam to boot. I might have talked to Clare about it. She would have

understood, but she too, might feel as though she should tell Brian. Since it would be considered a safety type of issue.

Nancy was new territory, sort of. Not totally. I mean, she had helped me out last year when I'd gone drinking and talking

to a boy I didn't know at that party. But, this. Well, things had changed a bit since then. She was very close to

marrying Evan now. She might feel compelled to 'rat me out', too.

Nancy was looking so interested, so sympathetic, that I found myself carrying on though.

I felt so very bad, thinking about it. I took my pillow and hugged it to my chest.

"I was talking to someone else. Kenny saw me," I said.

Nancy wrinkled her forehead, not understanding. "Huh?" she asked.

"Another guy. I was talking to him, and Kenny saw. I think it really hurt him."

The furrow on Nancy's forehead increased with puzzlement. "Because you were talking to someone? Come on, Harlie. That doesn't

sound right."

I took my pillow and thrust it behind me again, feeling huffy. "Never mind," I said.

"Oh, don't get your feathers all ruffled," Nancy said, in her customary direct way.

"My feathers aren't ruffled," I said. "I'm tired, I want to go to sleep."

"I want to understand. Just tell me what really happened," she said.

"You'd feel as though you had to run tell Evan or Hannah, or somebody," I said, crossly. "So, just forget it."

"You don't know that I would do that," Nancy said. "You haven't given me a chance."

For several long, prickly moments we regarded each other. Sort as if we were two card players, sizing each other up.

"Listen, Harlie, if it's bothering you this much, then maybe you really should talk to somebody. If not me, then somebody else."

"It's nothing," I said. I just wanted to stop talking, and stop thinking about Kenny's hurt expressions.

"If it's something that you think Evan, or Hannah, or anybody else would be upset about, then it must be something," Nancy

argued.

Nancy has the tenacity of a dog with a bone. Similar to certain other members of this family.

I decided to try one of my old excuses to convince her to 'let go', so to speak.

"I've got a headache, Nanc," I said. "I need to get to sleep. Maybe we can talk later."

Instantly, Nancy looked sympathetic. "Okay." She half-stood up. "Is it your blood sugar? Maybe you should get a snack."

"No. It's fine," I said. "It's not that. Some sleep will help."

"Okay," she said, again. She stood up the rest of the way. "My bachelorette party is in a week. We're going to have dinner at

that new restaurant, and go listen to some music. I'm planning on you being there."

"It sounds fun," I said.

"We can talk before then, though. Anytime you want," she offered.

"Thanks," I said.

Nancy gave me a sort of a questioning look, and I think if it had been any other time, she would have called me out. But, her mind

was dizzy with the wedding and all the preparations. Full of love and excitement. So, I had been able to put her off.

7

I got up early the next morning, going out before breakfast to feed Dark Commander some more of the senior horse feed. By the time

I'd finished breakfast, I went back out to see that he'd managed to eat most of it.

Feeling pleased, I turned him out into the pasture with the other horses. I stood watching, as old Charley came ambling up to

greet him. A few of the other horses looked up from their grazing to eye D.C., and I wished I had longer time to see how he was

going to adjust being out of the corral.

"How's he doing?" someone called to me from the corral gate.

I turned and saw Brian there, and walked over to where he stood, as he opened the gate for me to walk out.

"He ate good," I said, as Brian closed the gate again. "I wish I knew how the other horses were going to accept him."

"I'll keep half an eye out today on him," Brian said. "Make sure there's no problems."

"Thanks," I said.

"Ready to head off to school?" Brian asked then.

"Yeah. As soon as I wash my hands, and get my stuff," I said.

"What's your plans today? After work, I mean," he said.

I flicked a glance upwards at him. I knew very well what he was getting at.

"I don't have any plans," I said.

"Okay," he said.

We stood there, silent for a couple of moments.

"Listen, peach," Brian began, "Maybe I was a little rough on you yesterday. I forget sometimes, you are a kid, and

you should be able to have some fun, including hanging out at the Dari Kurl."

I was so surprised that I kept looking at him, not saying anything right off.

"I still think you should have been here, though, for your horse. But, other days, when you don't have commitments,

then that's a little different," he went on. "You still need to call home, though."

Stupid, traitorous tears threatened to leak out. He was being so nice. And I hadn't been at the Dari Kurl at all. I'd been

with an older guy, a basic stranger, who was drinking. And, in Ivy's office, of all places.

Brian saw the telltale tears, and misunderstood.

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking puzzled.

"You're being so nice," I said.

Brian looked even more perplexed. "Me being nice is makin' you cry? Good gravy, peach, I must be more of an

ass than I thought."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I don't mean it that way." I bit at my lower lip. "I was wrong not being home on time

yesterday. I deserved what you said."

Brian wrinkled his forehead, looking as though he was totally confused.

"I get the feelin' that we're not talkin' about the same thing," he said.

"Harlie!" Adam gave a holler from the front porch, where he stood, with the ever-present cup of coffee. "You need to get a move

on, or you're gonna be late."

I nodded towards Adam, and then looked at Brian again. "I'll be home on time today," I said.

Brian looked as though he wanted to ask questions, but he only said, "Alright."

7

I muddled thru my morning at school, and managed to avoid speaking to either Bill or Kenny. Actually, it was Bill that

I had to round the corners of the halls quickly to avoid. Kenny wasn't the problem. He was the one that was doing the avoiding.

I went to the library at lunchtime to eat, ensconcing myself into one of the back tables amongst the aisles of books. I worked thru

my ham sandwich and carrot sticks, reading one of the magazines kept in the library. I hadn't told Lori or Guthrie, or anybody that

I wouldn't be joining them at lunch outside, as was usual. I knew they'd be wondering where I'd gotten to. Still, I needed peace

and quiet right then.

I had one class left after lunch, before I left for work. I was putting my trash into the library trash can when I saw Guthrie's

face peering into the library door window.

"Hey!" he said, opening the door. "I've been lookin' for you. Have you been in here, for the whole lunch time?"

His voice wasn't exactly quiet, and I held up my finger to my lips to shush him.

I went out into the hall, and he stepped out after me, letting the library door close again.

"How come you ate in there?" he demanded.

"I just felt like it," I said, vaguely.

"How come?" he persisted.

"Guth, I just did, okay?" I said, impatiently.

"Okay," he said. "You don't have to bite my head off."

"I'm not trying to do that," I said. "Just stop asking me about it, alright?"

"Yeah. Okay," Guthrie said. We stood there in the hall, neither one of us speaking for a few moments, as other kids swarmed

around us, heading to their lockers or next class.

"Is Kristin okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. She's okay."

"That's good."

I knew Kenny hadn't said anything to Guthrie about seeing me with J.R., or else Guthrie would have lamblasted me long

before now. So, I felt safe enough to ask, "How's Kenny?"

My question must have seemed strange to Guthrie, though, because he frowned at me. "I dunno. Okay, I guess. He's in kind of

a mood."

"Oh," I said, feeling regret rise over me. I knew what was causing that mood of Kenny's.

"One of those guys must have said somethin' to him again, to bring him down. I'll talk to him about it later, and find out," Guthrie said.

Uh oh.

"Maybe you ought to give him some space," I said. "Not bug him, you know?"

Now Guthrie looked even more 'frowny'. "I'm not gonna bug him, Har."

"Okay," I said, weary of the conversation. And, besides, Guthrie was looking suspicious. He knew me so well, and I knew

that he 'smelled a rat'. He would know that something was up with me, by the way I was acting.

"You're actin' weird," Guthrie told me, confirming that his 'brother' antennae was in perfect working order.

"Thanks a lot," I said, trying to sound light. I began to walk down the hallway towards my locker.

The five-minute after lunch bell rang.

"Better get to class," I told him. "I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Okay," Guthrie said, still scrutinizing me with that 'McFadden' eye.

I went to get my books for my last class, and as I was about to go into the Phycology classroom, I saw Kenny, down

the hallway a bit.

He was looking at me, and so I raised my hand and gave a little wave. He lifted his hand in an equally short wave, and then turned

down another hallway. I sighed, and went into the class to take a seat.

7


	60. And the day goes on

I had been resigned to the fact that I was going to feel low about Kenny, and hurting him. And resigned that I was feeling massive guilt

about J.R., and how I'd let him come into Ivy's office.

I was trying to think about whether I should tell Ivy that I'd let him come in the way that I had. I was struggling with my conscience.

I had every intention of letting J.R. know that I was done. I wasn't going to meet him anywhere, or ride with him anywhere, or drive him anywhere.

So, maybe I could just let it go at that, and chalk the whole thing up to a period of teen-girl insanity. J.R. had been nice, good-looking,

and it had been flattering to have him pay attention to me the way that he had. Still, it wasn't worth what had happened. Hurting Kenny, even

accidently. And getting into trouble for being late. Nope. Time to put J.R. into the realm of past 'learning experiences'.

I parked my truck, and went into the office, laying my pack with my work clothes in a chair. The office was in total disarray. Drawers were

opened, on the desk and the file cabinet in the corner. The desk was covered with papers.

Ivy came thru the double swinging doors from the back. She looked flustered.

"Hey, Harlie," she greeted me.

"Hi," I said, watching as she ran a hand thru her hair. "What's up?"

"It's been a doozy of a day," she said.

"What happened?" I asked, as she went over to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of Coke, and then used the opener to

open it. "Want one?" she asked me.

"No," I said. I'd never seen Ivy quite like this. Not even when she found out about the petition that was circling around about

some of the ranchers wanting to get rid of her. She was as jumpy as a cat on a hot roof.

"Those guys out there-" she said, shaking her head, and gesturing towards the back, and the barn. "The roofers."

"What about them?" I asked, instantly getting a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"They didn't even bother to show up today at all. I'm really thinking that they've just taken off completely."

"Oh," I said, remembering what she'd said about giving them half of the money up-front.

"Yeah." She blew at her bangs, and sat down at the desk. She gave me a long look, and then said, sounding almost

apologetic, "Harlie, can I ask you something?"

I felt my stomach rebel in nerves. "Yeah. You can."

"Did they come in here yesterday? Up front here?"

Well, this was it. The jig was up. How she knew-

"One of them did," I said, feeling as low as possible.

"Okay. That's what I thought. There was a beer can, on the floor here, behind the desk," Ivy said.

I'd left in such a rush, the day before, when I'd found out how late that it was, I hadn't been careful!

I stood there, and I felt all mix of emotions. Sick at my stomach. Embarrassed. Scared. All of that.

Ivy reached out and pulled another chair away from the wall. "Come and sit," she told me.

I went to sit in the chair, facing her.

"Can you tell me what happened?" she asked then. In a really nice voice. Way nicer than I expected. Or deserved.

"He came around to the front, when I sweeping up. He wanted me to go for a ride with him, and I told him we could

talk in here instead. I know I should never have let him come in, and for sure I shouldn't have let him drink in here," I finished

in a torrent of words.

"Just like that, he asked you to go out with him somewhere?" Ivy asked.

"No. Not just like that," I admitted. "I met him the day before at the Dari Kurl."

"Oh."

It was the way she said that, 'oh'. Not an overly dramatic, 'oh, harlie!', or 'how could you?' Just that quiet 'oh'.

"I know you didn't want them in here," I said. "I broke your trust."

"Yeah," she said. "You kind of did."

I waited for her to tell me she didn't want me to work for her anymore.

"Everybody makes mistakes, Harlie," she said, instead. "It's how we grow."

"You're not mad at me?" I asked, unbelieving.

"No. I'm not mad. I am disappointed, though."

I felt as though I'd been punched in the stomach at that. "Like Crane," I said, really low.

"What?" she asked.

"Like with Crane," I said, to explain. "His disappointment is worse than anger."

"Well, Crane does have a way, doesn't he?"

I nodded, and Ivy sat there, just looking at me.

"Which one was it?" she asked then, surprising me.

"The one with the lighter brown hair," I said. "His name's J.R."

"I know you have a full house of brothers, and sister in laws, too," Ivy said. "I know I'm not family, and you probably know this

already, but, Harlie, he was working you. Slowly, maybe, but that's what he was doing. He wasn't interested in dating you, or

getting to know you, or any of that. That's not what he wanted."

I felt my face get all hot in embarrassment. I nodded in acknowledgement.

"Was he alone in here at all?" she asked me then.

I gave her a startled glance at that question.

"Well," I hesitated, "Yeah, for about five minutes or so. Kenny came by, and-I went outside to talk to him. J.R. was already

outside when I came back in to lock up, and turn out the lights and stuff. Why?"

"I had about seventy-five dollars in the drawer," Ivy said. "It's gone."

7

I don't know how I managed to get thru the rest of the afternoon. Or Ivy, either. But, we managed it. She put a splint on

a kid's pet rabbit's leg, and we both got scratched up from the Tyson's cat while trying to hold onto him to be examined. In between,

I swept the office, and straightened it, even climbing onto a chair to dust the shelves.

Ivy came and found me doing that, and said, "Harlie, you don't need to do that."

I paused, my dust cloth in my hand. "I feel as though I need to."

"Crane's going to be coming by after a while. He's going to check out the roof and see how much still

needs to be done, and then we're going to go out for awhile together," Ivy said.

"Oh," I said. I was thinking of facing Crane, and the dread made me nauseous.

"I just wanted you to know he was coming by. I'm going to go back and get cleaned up and change my clothes."

"Okay," I managed.

"Listen, Harlie, Crane knows about how the roofers didn't show up, but that's all. I didn't tell him about the money

missing from the desk. I didn't mention it, because I wanted to talk to you first."

I should have felt better then. At least Crane didn't know yet. Somehow, though, my relief wasn't as strong as I would have

expected it to be.

Ivy and I met each other's eyes, and I felt small, even though I was towering over her, standing on the chair that way.

"I'm not going to tell him about it," she said. "About you, and J.R."

I felt like wilted lettuce. "Thank you, Ivy," I said, so low it was nearly a whisper.

"Just promise me something," she said. "Promise that you won't be taken in so easily next time by somebody like

him."

I nodded, and she gave me a half-smile, and went to the back.

I returned to my dusting, trying to calm myself, and tamp down the tears. I didn't deserve Ivy's kindness. She would have

been well within her rights to fire me, to hold me responsible for the missing money, even to tell Crane, or Adam.

I had my back turned and was dusting away, still turning things over and over in my mind. On how I could make it up

to Ivy, to Kenny, all of that.

I heard the bell over the door jingle, and turned just as Crane come in.

"Hey there, peanut," he greeted me, closing the door behind him.

"Hi."

Standing on the chair that way, that made me close to being even height with Crane. He came over to stand next to

the chair. "Doing a little dusting, huh?"

"Uh huh."

"Where's Ivy?" he asked.

"She's in the back. Changing her clothes."

He nodded, and said, "Well, I'm going to go out and take a look at the barn roof."

I nodded, and he paused, turning to look back at me.

"You alright? You look a little pale," he asked.

"I'm okay," I said, without conviction. Even to my own ears I sounded unconvincing.

"Yeah?" Crane asked doubtfully. "You don't sound too sure."

"Just a long day," I said. "A long week."

"Mmm," Crane said. He studied me a moment or so longer. "Well, don't fall off that chair," he added.

I finished tidying up the office, and went to the back of the building, to find and talk to Ivy. It was time for me to

leave, and I wanted to go. It had been a heck of an afternoon.

I found Ivy outside, standing, her eyes shaded with a hand, looking up at Crane, who was walking atop the

barn roof.

"Is it a lot left to do?" I asked Ivy.

"Crane says they haven't done even half."

"Oh."

We waited as Crane came down the ladder, and came over to where we stood.

"I should have listened," Ivy was saying. "And gotten a roofer from around here, instead of trying to save money."

"Hindsight's twenty-twenty," Crane said. "You can't beat yourself up about it."

"I've got to figure out what to do," Ivy said. "I can't start boarding the horses again until the roof is fixed, so I'm losing money

with that, too."

"We'll get it taken care of," Crane said, calmly.

"Can you get me those names again?" Ivy asked. "Of the guys around here that you recommend?"

"I think the name would be McFadden," Crane said, and as it dawned on her what Crane was getting at, I saw Ivy's

face light up. The look she gave him could only be described as one of awe.

"You've got so much going on, though," Ivy made a protest. "The wedding and-"

"We'll work it out," Crane said. He smiled at her, and Ivy smiled back. In fact, the look between them could be described

as 'electrified'. They didn't need me around.

"I'm heading home," I said. "See you later."

"See you tomorrow," Ivy said.

"See you later, at home," Crane said.

I said goodbye again, and went back thru the building, to the front, and went out to my truck. I thought all the way home about

things. Life was a complicated thing.

7

At home, I did my chores, and was out in the pasture, checking on D.C. He was over in one of the corners of the pasture, and old Charley

was with him. I'd taken several of the apples from the bin in the barn, and Charley came up eagerly for his. I had to coax D.C. to take the

apple from me. It seemed as though he was happy enough grazing from the grass, and being with Charlie, but he had no desire to

accept me as his human.

I heard a four-wheeler coming down the trail from the line cabin, and saw Evan park, and get off. He was beginning to amble towards

the barn, a tool belt over his shoulder. When he came back out, minus the tool belt, he came walking over to me.

"Hey," he said, in greeting.

"Hi."

"How's he doin'?" Evan asked.

"Eating better, I think."

"That's good. He'll start fleshin' out some then."

Evan went closer to Dark Commander, and the contrary horse not only allowed Evan to approach him, but actually seemed to

welcome it! D.C. raised his head to Evan, and actually sniffed at him and allowed Evan to run his hands over his nose and neck.

"Wow," I said.

"Wow, what?" Evan asked me.

"He won't let me do that-he'll barely tolerate me."

"It takes time," Evan said, turning back to the horse, and rubbing his neck again.

"I know it does, but it's like he won't give me anything at all," I protested.

"Where's your patience, shortcake?" Evan asked me, running his hands over D.C.'s side.

"I don't have any," I said, crossly, and turned to go towards the gate out of the pasture.

"Hey!" Evan hollered, as I was walking off.

"You do it!" I hollered back, over my shoulder, without stopping.

I went to the gate and climbed over, not bothering to open it. I went inside, and upstairs, taking a shower, and then pulling on

a pair of denim cutoff jeans that were ragged on the hems, and a Jerry Lee Lewis t-shirt.

Barefoot, I went downstairs, and reached the bottom just as the phone began to ring.

I hollered out that I would get it, even though I hadn't seen anybody since I'd come inside.

There was a pause after my 'hello?'

Then, "Hey, Harlie."

Kenny.

"Hey," I said.

"Guthrie 'round?" he asked then.

Straight to Guthrie. He had nothing to say to me, obviously.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him," I said. "Do you want to wait while I go look?"

"No, that's alright."

Clare, bless her, came thru from the kitchen right at that time. I wanted to keep Kenny a little longer on the phone.

"Just a second," I said, into the phone. Turning to Clare I asked if she'd seen Guthrie.

Clare said she thought Guthrie was outside, cutting up a watermelon, and talking to Evan.

I nodded to Clare, and said to Kenny, "Clare says he's right out back. I can go get him, if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Thanks," he said.

"Alright," I said. I looked to see where Clare had gotten to, but she had gone out onto the front porch, so I said,

"Do you think we could talk, maybe?"

"Sometime. Sure," Kenny said, vaguely.

 _Sometime?_ Wow. I guess I still had a little of my temper burst left, because of this day which seemed to get only worse.

"I don't want to force you to talk to me," I told him. "Since the thought of it is so obviously distasteful! So don't worry about it!"

"Harlie-" he began.

"I'll get Guthrie," I said, and set the phone receiver down on the table.

I went stomping thru to the kitchen, and went to the back screen door, pushing it open.

Guthrie and Evan were sitting at the back picnic table, eating watermelon and spitting seeds.

"Telephone," I said, and they both looked up at me.

"Me?" Evan asked.

"Guthrie," I specified.

"Who is it?" Guthrie asked me.

"Kenny."

"Okay," he said, and swung his legs out of the picnic table seat. "Don't eat it all before I get back," he warned Evan.

"It's a chance you take," Evan said.

Guthrie brushed past me and I went to turn back into the kitchen, but Evan called out to me.

"Hey, Har!"

I stuck my head back out the screen door. "What?"

"Comere a minute," he said.

"Why?" I asked, standing where I was.

"Just comere," he insisted.

I heaved a huge sigh, and came out, walking towards the picnic table. I stopped and crossed my arms, tapping my bare

foot. "What?" I asked.

"Want some?" he asked me, gesturing to the cut up pieces of watermelon laying there on a towel.

"No."

"What's biting you?" he asked, in a typical Evan-like manner.

"Everything's great. Couldn't be better," I said, flippantly.

"Right. I can tell," he said.

I was going to let go with another off-the-cuff quip, but suddenly I just didn't feel like it.

So, I met his eyes, and shrugged.

"It's been a lousy couple of days," I settled for saying.

"Wanna talk about it?" he offered. And, he said it so nice, that I felt as though I could bust into tears right then and there.

The back door flapped shut and Guthrie headed back our way.

I looked at Guthrie, and then back at Evan. "No. Thanks."

"We can talk off by ourselves, if you want," Evan said then.

I was tempted. I was. But, I couldn't tell Evan about J.R. I just couldn't. Even though we got along well, most of the time, and

were buddies, well, in a case like this, all of that would fly out of the window. The 'older-brother' window.

I shook my head in refusal.

By now Guthrie was back, reclaiming his seat, and picking up another piece of watermelon.

"Daniel'l be home soon," Evan said to me.

I flicked a startled glance at him. But, he was sincere. He meant it that I could unburden myself to Daniel, if I didn't feel as

though I could confide in him. And, he didn't say it with a chip on his shoulder, or a mean spirit, or anything like that. He was

just stating a fact. And, I knew that he meant it in the nicest possible way. For some reason, that made me want to cry all the more.

"It's not anything I would talk to Daniel about, either," I said. I didn't want Evan to feel as though he was lacking.

"Oh," Evan said.

"Guess what?" Guthrie interrupted, sounding positively gleeful. "No school tomorrow!"

"How come?" Evan asked, before I could.

"Kenny said he heard somethin' about a water leak," Guthrie reported.

"Probably not true," Evan said.

"Don't jinx it," Guthrie told him.

I, too, was alright about the thought of there being an unexpected day off.

"I'll spring for pizza tonight," Evan was saying.

"Alright!" Guthrie said, with an enthusiastic fist pump.

"Ford oughta be here soon," Evan said, getting to his feet. "He can come, too." He turned to look at me.

"Want to come, Har?" he asked.

I thought about it, just for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah. That sounds fun."

Evan gave me a nod and a half-smile. "Okay," he said.

And, it did sound fun. It would be just what I needed, I thought. A fun evening out, pizza and pool, with my brothers.

I wished later that I would have just stayed at home.

7


	61. What are the odds?

When Guthrie jubilantly reported to Hannah that school was cancelled the following day, Hannah looked unconvinced.

"I haven't heard anything about it," she said. "Where did Kenny hear it at?"

"He said somebody told his mother while she was at the store or somethin'," Guthrie said, unconcerned.

"Probably just a rumor," Adam said, scooping coffee into the filter of the coffee pot.

"Now, don't be cruel like that, Adam," Guthrie joked, clutching his chest as though in pain.

"Somebody will be callin' if it's true," Adam said.

"Or I could call Laura Tate," Hannah suggested. "Since her husband's on the school board, she would likely know."

Adam half-leaned against the counter. He reached into the cookie jar and took out an oatmeal cookie. "Good idea," he said.

So Hannah went to call, while Guthrie proceeded to tell Adam about the evening out for pizza.

"Evan's even gonna pay," Guthrie said.

"Sounds like a heck of a deal then," Adam said. "You going along too, sugar?" he asked me.

I nodded.

Hannah came back into the kitchen to announce that there was indeed, no school the following day.

"Miracles really do happen," Guthrie said.

"Guthrie," Hannah said, giving him a reproving look.

A shout from the living room had us all jumping and heading that way. Ford was home. And he'd brought Captain Jack

with him.

7

I said my hellos to Ford, and then I headed upstairs to change my clothes. When I got up there, though, I just

sat there, on the end of my bed, for the longest time. And then, I began to cry. I was so tired, it seemed like. And

all churned up, inside.

I kept seeing Kenny, standing there, with his face full of hurt; and then Ivy's face, looking let down. I'd really bungled

things. All because I'd wanted to talk to, and spend a little time with some new guy. And, while it had been sort of a 'zing' to

have J.R. seem interested, it hadn't been worth all this. He was nothing but a jerk, anyway. A thief. I had to think of a way to

replace the money to Ivy. Seventy-five dollars might not be a lot to some people, but it was to her. And to me, too. I knew she had massive

student loans to repay every month. And now J.R.'s crew had taken half of that money and split. I wasn't sure, but that was probably

several hundred dollars. And the seventy-five dollars.

I had loosened my braid, and was running my hands thru my hair, when there was a tapping on my door.

"What?" I asked, swiping at my eyes and face.

"It's me, Har, can I come in?"

"I'll be down in a few minutes," I said.

"Okay," he said, but I knew he was still standing there, on the other side of the door. "We're gettin' around to go."

"I'll be down."

Ford said 'okay' again, and I heard his footsteps going on down the hall, and then the stairs.

I stripped out of my shorts, and pulled on a pair of jeans, and then found some socks, and put those on too. I put on my boots

and went to the bathroom, putting cold water on my face, and then patting it dry with a towel.

Downstairs, everybody was milling around the living room. Captain Jack was squawking, and Isaac was watching

him with fascination.

Evan picked Isaac up from his spot on the blanket on the floor, and took him over to stand in front of

Captain Jack's cage. Isaac was wide-eyed, as Captain Jack began dancing on his perch.

"Helllllo," the bird said. "God save the Queen!"

Everybody laughed, and Evan said, "Look, Scooter's not even scared of him anymore."

"Nancy meeting you all in town?" Hannah asked Evan, as Evan brought Isaac back over to hand him to Adam, who

was sitting on the couch.

"Maybe so, if she gets everything done," Evan said.

"How about Kristin?" Hannah asked then, looking at Guthrie and at me.

Guthrie shook his head in answer. "She's goin' with her mom to visit her aunt."

"Well, that's good," Hannah said.

"So just you four McFaddens, huh?" Brian asked, from his spot on the other couch beside Clare. "Or is Kenny goin'

along. too?"

I carefully, or so I thought, kept my expression schooled to not show any reaction.

"I dunno," Guthrie said, looking at me. "Did you tell him?"

"No," I said, shortly.

"I guess he can, if it's okay with you, huh, Evan?" Guthrie asked, looking at Evan.

"He can if he wants," Evan said.

"If he can't, I think it's nice, the four of you spending time together," Hannah said, looking pleased. She turned to look

at me. "Want me to braid your hair for you before you go?" she offered.

I'd left my hair down, but the curls were springing all over the place, and I thought suddenly that, yeah, it would be

nice to have it out of the way. I nodded to her, and she told me to get my hairbrush, telling Evan and Ford it wouldn't

take but a minute, when they complained about how hungry they were.

I came back down with my brush, and by then the boys were spilling over out on the front porch, pushing and wrestling

and talking to Crane.

I handed my brush off to Hannah, and sat on the floor in front of her, cross-legged, as she began to brush out my hair.

"How was work?" This from Brian. To me.

He and Clare were sitting on the couch directly opposite the one Adam and Hannah were sitting on.

"It was okay," I said.

"Crane says the roofers have left Ivy in a bind," Hannah said.

"Yeah. That's a damn shame," Brian said.

"How many of them were there?" Adam asked.

"I don't think Crane said how many," Brian answered. "How many was there, peach? Do you know?"

At first I didn't answer, and they were all waiting. I couldn't see Hannah, obviously, but Clare, Brian and Adam

were all looking at me.

"Four or five," I said, hoping they would drop the subject.

"Damn shame," Brian said, again.

Guthrie came back just barely inside the front door, holding the screen open with his hand.

"Hey, Har, call Kenny before you come out. See if he wants to meet us at the pizza parlor."

"No," I said, immediately, without thinking.

"Huh?" Guthrie asked, looking surprised.

"If you want him to come, then you call him yourself," I said.

"What's your problem?" Guthrie demanded, coming into the room a few more steps.

"Nothing's my problem, except I'm not your servant," I said.

Guthrie looked irritated, but then he came inside, letting the screen flap shut. "Fine," he said. "I'll call him."

He went thru the middle of the room towards the telephone, giving me an annoyed look.

We could hear Guthrie dialing and then talking to someone. Not Kenny. His mother, maybe, by the sound of the

conversation.

Then he hung up and came back thru again, pausing by the end of the couch.

"His mom's gonna tell him," Guthrie said.

"That's good," Adam said.

Guthrie went back out onto the porch, and after a couple of quiet minutes, Hannah patted the back of my head.

"All finished," she said.

"Thanks," I said, reaching up to touch the braid.

I got to my feet, and then stood there a moment, with all four of them looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Everything alright?" Adam asked.

"Yeah. Why?" I asked, trying to appear nonchalant.

"You don't seem like yourself, that's all," he said.

"I'm tired, I guess," I said.

"Maybe you should stay home tonight," Hannah said. "You have been pushing things pretty hard lately. You haven't had much

'down time'."

"No school tomorrow," Adam reminded her. "She can relax a little then. Right, sugar?"

"Right," I said.

"Unless you'd rather stay home," he added then, giving me a more scrutinizing look.

"No. I wanna go with the boys tonight," I said.

Adam nodded, and I gave sort of an awkward glance around the room at all of them.

"Well," I said, and then was saved from any more awkward questions by Ford's appearance at the door.

"Come on, goofy," he told me, and then ushered me out in front of him, with everybody saying 'goodbye'.

Once in the truck, on the way to Angels Camp, we were packed in tightly into Ford's truck. He was driving,

and then me beside him, then Guthrie, and then Evan by the other door.

We were listening to the radio, and were laughing and cutting up. Well, the boys were laughing and joking. I was

mostly quiet. It was helping to be out with them, at least so far it was taking my mind off of things a bit. But, I

was still quieter than was usual.

When we walked into the pizza parlor, it was pretty well filled up. There were only a couple of tables left, and one booth.

"Table or booth?" Ford asked. He was in the front, with me behind him, then Guthrie, and then Evan at the end.

"Booth," I said, right at the same time as Guthrie said 'table'.

"I vote for booth, too," Evan said, and ushered me into the inside on one side of the red booth. I slid in, and he

sat down beside me, while Guthrie took the outside on the other side.

We ordered our pizza, and the waitress brought our drinks. I was bending the end of my straw absentmindedly while

my brothers were talking, and I was just looking around. A group came inside then. A rowdy group of three guys and two

girls. My eye was first caught by the girls and the clothes they were wearing. Or rather, not wearing. Short shorts, and

shirts tied to bare their midriffs. Then the guys. One very recognizable guy. With light brown hair, and a familiar laugh.

I was filled with sudden, irrepressible horror. What were the chances? Of course there's not that many places to

eat in the area, so it wouldn't have been such a coincidence, except that J.R. and his crew were thought to be long gone.

I sat back really fast against the back of the booth, so fast that my arm jostled Evan's glass of Dr. Pepper.

"Hey," he protested, as some sloshed out over the top of the glass.

"Sorry," I said.

I watched as J.R. and the others with him took a table that had just been vacated by a family of six.

J.R. was scooting out a chair, and running his hand over one of the girl's lower back.

There was no way I wanted him to see me. Maybe he wouldn't say anything at all. But, maybe he would. I didn't feel

lucky enough to take on the risk of J.R. having a big, fat nerve. I already knew that about him, anyway.

I bumped Evan with my hip. "Let me out, Ev," I said.

"Where you goin'?" he asked, getting up.

I slid out, and didn't answer, heading fast towards the bathroom that was at the back, down a narrow hallway.

I went into the bathroom, and locked the door. I spent the next few minutes, patting at my face with a wet paper towel, and

looking into the mirror, and cursing my luck. Or lack thereof.

This isn't like a big restaurant, where there are several bathroom stalls, and benches to sit on, with mirrors and all that. Nope. This

pizza parlor has only space for one person in the bathroom at a time.

So, it wasn't long before there was a tap on the door, and the doorknob was tried.

I opened the door, and let the woman waiting in. I stood there, in the hallway, under the poor lighting there, trying to

think of what to do. When the woman stepped out, fluffing her hair, she looked surprised to see me still standing there.

She nodded at me, and went on her way. I went back inside the bathroom, and stared in the mirror some more.

I could hear little girl's voices right outside the door, and the knocking began again. I sighed, and went out.

Now, there was a mom, with two little girls waiting.

She hustled them into the bathroom, and I heard the lock click.

Ford appeared at the end of the hallway, and saw me standing there, and walked to me.

"You okay?" he asked me.

"Uh huh," I said.

"They brought our pizza," he said.

"Okay."

Ford waited. You could hear the little girl's high pitched voices from inside the bathroom.

"You been waitin' this whole time to get in there?" he asked me.

I could hardly tell him that no, I'd been in and out of the bathroom twice already.

"I'll be there in a minute," I said, to hurry him along.

"Okay," he said, and went back down that dimly lit hallway. Back to the pizza at the table.

Another five minutes or so, and the frazzled looking mom came out, carrying one kid, and holding the other by

the hand.

I stood there a few minutes longer. I didn't particularly want to go back into the bathroom. There was a blinking fluorescent

light in there, and it was messing with my eyes.

There was no shortage of females in need, that was for sure. Now there was one of the girls that had come in with J.R. heading down

the hallway.

"You waitin'?" she asked me, gesturing towards the bathroom door.

"No. Go ahead," I told her.

"Okay," she said, giving me sort of an odd look, and going into the bathroom.

Ah, lovely. I saw Evan at the end of the hall, and then he was coming towards me.

"What's wrong?" he demanded. "You sick?"

"No."

"Well, come on. Your pizza's gettin' cold," he told me.

"I'll be there in a minute."

He was giving me a puzzled expression. "You're actin' weird," he accused.

"Thanks," I said, glibly.

"If you're sick, then we'll just go home-" he began.

Sure. If we walked out, we would be heading right past J.R.'s table. Um, no.

"I told you, I'm _not_ sick."

"Well-" Evan began again, just as the bathroom door opened, and the girl stepped out. She was adjusting her shirt, or what there was

of it, anyway. She nodded to me, and smiled at Evan.

When she'd walked on, Evan looked at me, obviously surprised that I didn't head into the bathroom.

"Alright, Harlie," he said. "Somethin's up with you. What is it?"

"What makes you think something's up?" I responded, trying to sound off-the-cuff.

"I don't know. Maybe because you're hiding in the hallway by a bathroom door in a pizza place," he said, sarcastically.

"I'll go eat," I said, and began to edge my way around him in the narrow space.

"Yeah. Okay. And, we'll talk later on," he said, sounding ominous.

"Oh, goody," I said, low enough that he couldn't hear me.

I went and slid back into my spot at the booth without looking towards the table where J.R. and his companions were

sitting, as Evan sat down beside me.

"About time," Guthrie told me. "Much longer, and I would have eaten your share."

"I'm not all that hungry," I said, taking one slice from the pan. "You can have the rest." I was leaning back in the booth, nibbling

on the end of my slice of pizza. I gave a covert glance across the busy room to see that yes, J.R. was still there. He was facing

our direction, too, and drinking a glass of beer.

I tried to sit that way the whole time, leaned back, with my head behind Evan's shoulder.

When the boys had devoured the pizza, leaving not even a scrap of crust, Evan gave a look around the table.

"You guys ready to go?" he asked, in general.

"As soon as I finish my pop," Ford said.

"I'll go pay," Evan said, and got up to go stand in the line formed for the cashier.

Left there, without Evan's bulk to obscure me from view, I felt a sense of panic, as J.R. stood up, and headed

towards our booth.

"Bat shit," I muttered.

And, there he was. Standing beside the table. Smiling at me as if he wasn't a low-life thieving piece of trash.

"Hey, Harlie," he said.

Well, here was a situation that doesn't occur every day. How to respond? Answer or ignore?

It would raise more suspicions with my brothers if I ignored.

So, I answered. But, not warmly.

"Hey."

"I didn't see you sitting over here."

"Well, I've been here," I said.

Guthrie was frowning and Ford was looking puzzled.

J.R. put out a hand towards Ford. "J.R. Price," he said, identifying himself.

Ford took the offered hand, and said, "Ford McFadden."

"Brother of Harlie's?" J.R. asked.

"Yeah."

"How about you?" J.R. said, looking to Guthrie. "You another brother, or another boyfriend?"

Guthrie gave J.R. a look that would have been verified unfriendly any way you went about it. "I'm her brother," he said.

J.R. nodded and grinned, and looked at me again. "You weren't kidding when you said there was a bunch, were you?"

Ford was giving me a look that plainly asked, 'what the heck?'

And then Evan was there, standing beside the table too, and putting his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans.

J.R. continued with his little show. "Hey," he said, in greeting to Evan. "How you doing?"

Evan, oblivious to what he'd walked up upon, said, "Doin' alright."

Again, with the outstretched hand. "J.R. Price."

Evan shook the offered hand, and said, "Evan McFadden."

"Evan, huh? You're the one getting ready to take the leap into matrimony pretty soon, aren't you?"

Evan gave a brief nod, looked puzzled. "Yeah, that's right."

I knew he had to be wondering how this guy who was a total stranger to him knew anything about him getting

married soon.

I had my mouth open to announce that we were leaving, and tell J.R. he could go back to his friends, but before

I could, J.R. said, to Evan, "Harlie told me about it. Your wedding, I mean. Is your Tennessee brother here tonight, too?"

"No," I interrupted, in a clipped tone. "He's not."

"That's too bad. I would've liked to have met him, too," J.R. said.

"You have us at a sort of disadvantage," Evan said, dryly. "You know about us, but Harlie hasn't mentioned you to us at all."

There was a tone to Evan's voice. One I recognized. He'd sized J.R. up and had him pegged in a negative way. Also, too, of

course, that comment was meant for me. To give me fair warning that I would be subjected to an inquisition later on.

I closed my eyes, and wished for time travel or something. Anything to get me away.

7


	62. Sparring

There was no DeLorean car. And Michael J. Fox didn't appear to take me to the past or to the future, like in the movie,

'Back to the Future'.

J.R. gave me a glance and then aimed a smile at me, and included Evan and Ford and Guthrie in it, too.

"Harlie and I are good friends," he said. "Aren't we?"

I'd had enough. I got up really fast, and said, "No. We're not," I said, and I put ice in my tone.

Evan looked wary, and Ford confused, but J.R. didn't seem bothered.

He just stood there, still smiling, and said, "Come on," to me. 'Come on' as in a 'what are you talking about?' type of

way. I glared at J.R., and tossed a look at Evan and Ford, and then I headed for the door to go out. I got

into Ford's truck, and sat there, in the middle of the seat, and crossed my arms. Trying to get my cool back.

Guthrie was the first one out after me. He came around to the passenger side of the truck, and flung the door open,

looking in the cab at me.

"Who is that guy?" he demanded.

Ford came to the driver's side and opened the door, getting in.

"Huh?" Guthrie persisted. "Who is he?"

"Didn't you hear him?" I said. "He introduced himself enough, you should have heard him."

Evan, behind Guthrie by now, gave Guthrie a poke in the back. "Get in."

Guthrie got into the truck, sliding over, and then Evan got in, slamming the door. We were all in now.

Crowded together like sardines. Sometimes, it's okay. Fun. But, now, I felt like I was suffocating. And, we hadn't even

left the Pizza Parlor parking lot.

I waited for Ford to start the engine. It seemed he was going to, but then he just sat there, his hand on the key in the ignition

switch.

"Okay," I said, into the silence. "He's one of the roofers that was working on Ivy's barn roof. I talked to him a couple of

times. I thought he was nice. But, he and the others didn't show up to finish the roof, so-" I hesitated. "So I don't think he's

so nice."

Still silence. I looked at Ford, who was looking contemplative, but not accusing, and Guthrie, who was frowning still. I didn't

look around Guthrie at Evan. I didn't want to do that.

"He acts like he thinks he's a player or somethin'," Guthrie said.

I stayed silent, looking ahead. That was my best defense.

"What's Ivy gonna do?" This from Ford.

"I think Crane's going to help finish the roof," I said.

"Oh."

"Yep," I said, vaguely.

Ford turned the key in the ignition, starting the engine. "What now?" he asked, in a general way. "Play some pool? Or

home?"

"Whatever you guys wanna do," Evan said.

"Let's go shoot a game of pool," Guthrie said.

So, we started back to Murphys from Angels Camp, and once in town, Ford drove down the semi-crowded streets

to park in Butch's parking lot.

"Lots of people here tonight," Ford observed. "We may not be able to get a pool table."

"We can hang around and see," Guthrie insisted. So Ford shut off the motor, and we all climbed out. I got out after Ford, and he was

standing there, putting his keys into his pocket, and looking at me.

"What?" I asked.

"It just feels like I'm always a bunch behind, with knowing what's goin' on around here, with everybody," he said.

"You're not missing anything exciting," I said, in a dismissive way, hoping he wouldn't ask me any questions.

"I'm not so sure about that," Ford said.

I followed the three of them inside, and it was, indeed, crowded inside. There were kids everywhere, mostly teenagers, but also

some older, and mostly couples. I had not even a full dollar in my pocket, but I went to get a Coke from the counter. I looked

around to see if any of my friends were here. Lori and Trent were here, and she was sitting on a tall stool, watching Trent shoot pool.

I went over and took the stool next to her, and we talked for a while. Guthrie joined Trent in the game, and then I saw Ford and

Evan at another table, playing a game of pool with older guys, one of them I recognized as a friend of Daniel's from high school. I couldn't

remember his name.

It was so noisy that Lori and I couldn't really carry on a conversation, so we decided to go outside. We took our bottles of Coke, and

headed towards the door.

In doing so, we passed nearby to where Ford and Evan were at. Ford had just taken a shot, and was standing with the pool cue resting, his hand

around the top, and the bottom on the floor.

"Where you goin'?" he asked me, as we walked past.

"Outside," I said, and when he shook his head, indicating that he couldn't hear me, I stepped up closer to him and

repeated, "Outside."

He nodded then, and Evan, preparing to make his own shot, said, "Don't disappear."

In other words, 'don't go far'. Or also, code for that he was still thinking about J.R. and all of that.

"I won't leave town without letting you know," I said, sarcastically.

I turned to go outside with Lori before I could see the probable disgusted look from either of them at my sarcasm.

Once outside, in the cooler night air, I let out a deep sigh. Lori and I found a spot around the side of the building, and

sat on the benches there, drinking our Cokes and talking.

And, because Lori is my best friend, I told her about J.R., and how it had been fun at first, but then became not so fun,

and how he had likely stolen the money from Ivy's desk.

"Wow, Harlie," Lori said. "That's major."

"I know," I said, and sighed again.

"And, he just came right up to your table at the pizza parlor, like that?" she asked.

"Yeah. He's got nerve, alright," I said.

"Maybe they'll come back and finish the job at Ivy's," Lori said. "Maybe he's not the one who took the money."

"I wish that were true, but I don't think it is."

We heard Trent calling for Lori, and we stood up, going back to the front of the building. Trent was standing there

with Guthrie. Trent told Lori they'd better be going, so she could get home before her curfew.

We told each other goodbye, and they walked to Trent's truck, hand in hand.

That left Guthrie and I standing there, in the parking lot, next to Ford's truck.

"Are Ford and Evan still playing pool?" I asked him.

"They're wrappin' up their game."

I was looking up at the sky, thinking how beautiful it was right then, when Guthrie said, abruptly, "What's up with you and Kenny?"

I cast him a glance.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"He didn't show up tonight."

"So? Maybe he had something else to do," I said, dismissively. "Help his dad, or something."

Guthrie was regarding me with a steadiness that unnerved me, just a bit. I use the analogy of a dog with a bone alot

regarding Guthrie's persistence when he wants to find out something. Especially where I'm concerned.

That's the look he had now.

"Naw," he said. "He acts funny whenever your name comes up."

"How nice that my name pops up so often," I said.

Not impressed with my quip, Guthrie continued to study me.

"Did somethin' happen between you and Kenny?" he asked then.

I revved up and responded, just as Evan and Ford were heading our way.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked, buying time.

"You're my sister, he's my friend," Guthrie said, as if he pointing out facts to a dummy.

Suddenly, I was fed up. I poked Guthrie in the center of his chest. "Kristin's _my_ friend," I reminded him. "And you're my brother. But, do I

stick my nose into you two's relationship?" I jabbed him again in the chest, harder. "No, Guthrie, I do not! So, do the same for me,

where Kenny's concerned!" I poked him again, for good measure.

Guthrie eyes narrowed, and we were staring each other down. Which was more difficult for me, since he's nearly a head taller than

I am.

He captured my hand in his, and thrust it away from his chest. "Quit," he ordered.

"I'll quit when you quit," I said, and jabbed him again.

"Darn it, Har," he said, sounding mad.

By now, Ford was opening the driver's door to his truck, shaking his head at both Guthrie and I.

"Knock it off," Evan ordered, walking past us. "Both of you."

We all got back into Ford's truck, taking our previous places. Ford, driving, then me, then Guthrie, then Evan by the other door.

Heading on the road out of town, I was still feeling wrought up, keyed up. It was just everything. The guilt about having been

the key to J.R. being able to steal from Ivy; feeling worried about Kenny and what he was thinking and feeling; running into J.R.

tonight, and having him approach me while I was with my brothers; and now, to top it off, fighting with Guthrie. I _detest_ fighting with Guthrie. I always have.

It's not as though we do much of it. Fighting, I mean. We don't. We get along, exceptionally well, is what people say. So, therefore, when

we do go at it, it always make me upset, and causes my stomach to hurt.

I had enough on my mind, and on my heart. I didn't want to have the evening ending with cross words between me and Guthrie.

So, into the silence, I said, more quietly, "I just want you to understand how I feel, Guth."

There. That was nice, I thought.

But, darn him, Guthrie was silent. I looked to my right at his profile. He was just looking forward, towards the road.

"Guthrie?" I prompted.

"You wanna drop it, so we'll drop it," he said, then.

"Jerk," I accused, under my breath.

"You're the one bein' a jerk," he countered.

"I'm not," I denied. "I just don't like it when you try to mind my business-"

"I said to stop." This from Evan. Said in a very fed-up tone.

"This is between me and Guthrie," I said, even though I knew I shouldn't.

"It's happening with me and Ford right here, so it's not between you and Guthrie," Evan said.

"Close your ears if you don't wanna listen," I told Evan.

"Har." This was from Ford. Said in a reproving tone.

Evan leaned forward, and across Guthrie a bit. "Enough," he told me. "You keep quiet the rest of the way home."

"Why are you only telling me?" I protested. "I wasn't the only one arguing, you know."

"It's your mouth I keep hearin', not Guthrie's," Evan said, raising his voice.

I sat back against the seat, crossing my arms.

"Of course," I said, snidely. "The Brotherhood. Stick together."

The Brotherhood is an accusation I've leveled at occasional brothers, on only a very few occasions. It's referring to the fact

that it's them against me, being the only female in the group. I know it's not true. I really do. But, when I'm really aggravated,

and my mouth takes over, sometimes it just comes out.

Evan gave me a searing look, and then sat back against the seat himself, not answering.

The tension radiated in the truck cab the rest of the way home. The lights from our house were in sight, and I was

feeling really weepy. I'd gone out tonight with the three of them, to have some fun, and try to forget about everything for

a little while. Instead, thanks to J.R. accosting us at the pizza parlor, and then my over-reaction to Guthrie's questions about Kenny,

well...now things were even more complicated.

We were at the end of our long driveway, and I said, "I'm sorry, Guth. I overreacted."

There was a slight pause, only a slight one, and then Guthrie said, "I'm sorry, too. I was just askin'."

"I know," I said, contritely.

Ford parked the truck, and shut it off, and we all got out. I sighed, feeling ready for bed. At least I could go to sleep not

worried about a skirmish between Guthrie and I. One bright spot.


	63. Figure it out

We'd all gone inside the house, with Ford coming in last, and closing the door. Adam was sitting and reading, in one of the

oversized chairs.

"Hey," he said, in greeting to all of us. "How was the pizza?"

"Good as always," Ford said.

Captain Jack's cage had been covered by a sheet, and Ford went over, lifting up a corner of it.

"How is the old scallywag?" he asked, looking into it.

"He's been quiet ever since I covered the cage," Adam said.

"I'll take him upstairs with me," Ford said.

Evan protested at that, saying he didn't want Captain Jack to keep him awake. Ford gave in, saying he would leave the cage where it was at for the night.

I went off to the kitchen, and prepared to do my shot. It was while I was doing that, that Evan came into the kitchen,

and went to get a glass out of the cabinet.

"You and me should talk," he said, quietly, and left the glass there, setting on the counter, while he went to the

refrigerator, and retrieved the milk.

I began putting my shot supplies away, not looking at him.

"I'm tired," I said.

"It doesn't have to be tonight," he said, pouring milk into the glass.

"Next week then," I said, glibly, hinting at the fact that he would be on his honeymoon at this time next week.

"I was thinkin' more like tomorrow, in the morning."

"I'm just so busy," I said, going to put the supplies away in the cabinet. "I don't know how I'd find the time to squeeze you

in-"

"Quit," he said, and he raised his voice.

I stopped mid-word, and looked at him.

"Stop bein' a smartass for two seconds at least," Evan said.

I'd gone silent at that bark from him. I was looking at him warily.

"I just wanna talk to you," Evan was saying then. "We can talk in the morning, or we can go back outside, and talk now."

He was quiet then, looking at me, as if waiting.

"In the morning," I said.

"Okay," he said, and he didn't sound so mad then.

He went to put the milk away in the refrigerator again, and then paused at the bottom of the back stairs.

"Night," he said.

I looked away from him. "Night," I said.

I went to bed, but it took me a long time to go to sleep. I kept thinking of everything, over and over.

7

When I woke up the next morning, it was a little later than I usually get up, on a regular school day. I got dressed, and

brushed out my hair, and slipped on a headband, instead of braiding it. I went downstairs, and set my boots by the front door. When

I got to the kitchen, Brian was at the stove, cooking scrambled eggs. There was a platter of bacon already in the center of the

table, and Crane was pouring orange juice into glasses.

Brian was talking to Crane about Ivy's roof, and Crane said he was going to head into Murphys after breakfast, to work on it.

As everybody else was coming into the kitchen, Hannah went over to Brian at the stove, giving him a sideways hug.

"It looks delicious," she said. "Even more delicious since I didn't have to do the cooking."

"Bring your plate over here, peach," Brian said, and I went to do that, and he spooned eggs onto my plate.

I took the opportunity to ask Crane quietly if I could go along with him when he went to Ivy's.

"Don't you have things around here to do?" he asked me.

"I guess, but I really want to go with you," I told him. I couldn't explain that the real reason I wanted to go so badly was

because of how I was feeling. Guilty, and that I felt like I owed Ivy some extra work, that she didn't have to pay me for.

"It's alright with me," he said, and I said 'thanks' quietly, and went to sit down. Guthrie slid into his chair shortly after

I'd sat down. I figured we were back on an even keel, and was assured of that when he gave me a teasing poke in my ribs

with his elbow.

"Elephant ears," I taunted, reaching up to flick one of his ears with my fingers.

I finished my breakfast in a hurry, and was getting up, preparing to take my plate to the sink.

"I'll be ready to go in about twenty minutes or so," Crane was telling me.

I told him okay, and then at the sink, I nearly collided with Evan, who had also finished.

"I'll be outside," he told me quietly, and then he went out the back door.

I sighed and followed him out. He was already over at the front of the barn, pouring gas from a gas can into one of the

four-wheelers.

I took my time walking over his direction, thinking about what he might be going to say to me. Questions about J.R., for sure.

I was preparing answers in my head, and when I got over to him, I was quiet, and he looked up at me a couple of times, as he

poured the gas.

"Who's the guy?" he asked, not surprisingly.

I thought about looking around, and saying something flip, such as, 'Guy? What guy?' I resisted, though. It would just make Evan mad.

"He's one of Ivy's roofers. Or he was. I told you that," I reminded him.

"He's more than that. He's the reason you were hidin' in the hallway at the pizza place."

"I don't like the way him and the others ran out on Ivy. I didn't want to talk to him," I said.

"That's not the reason," Evan denied.

"How do you know what's in my mind?" I asked, with an edge of an attitude. "Are you a mind reader now, or something?"

Evan gave me a long look, and at first he looked irritated, then he seemed resigned, almost. He shook his head a little, and capped

the gas tank. He rubbed his hands on the legs of his jeans, and got onto the four-wheeler. He gave me one more look, and

said, "Okay, Harlie."

And then he pushed the button on the four wheeler to start it. It roared to life.

And, just like that, I realized he was going to let it go. He wasn't going to badger me or demand to know anything. He

was closing off. I should have been glad. But, it scared me. I don't know why, exactly. It just did. I guess I was remembering last year when he went

almost three whole weeks without hardly talking to me at all, after I'd gotten back from Daniel's.

That had been so horrible.

"Ev," I said. And then, louder, over the motor, I said, again, "Ev."

He looked up at me. "What?" he asked.

I started to say something, but then I closed my mouth again, subsiding, my emotions scattered.

Evan shut the motor on the four-wheeler back off again. "What, Harlie?" he asked again, sounding impatient.

"Don't be mad at me," I said. I sounded stupid, I knew. Like a little kid.

Evan regarded me for a long moment, and then said, still sounding irritated, "Then don't play dumb with me, and get

on my nerves."

"Okay," I said.

He sat there then, on the four-wheeler, just looking at me. Waiting.

I bit at my lower lip, working up my courage a bit.

"I was talking to him, the last few days. To J.R. He seemed real nice." I hesitated, and said, "We were flirting with each other, I guess."

"Does he know how old you really are?"

"I don't think so," I admitted.

"You didn't think that was somethin' you should mention to him?"

"I liked having him talk to me," I said. Another admission. "I didn't know he wasn't a good guy."

"So, last night, you were tryin' to keep him from seeing you there, at the Pizza Parlor?"

I nodded, and Evan said, "Why?"

"I didn't want you to know I'd been talking to him and stuff," I admitted.

"He mess with you?" Evan asked then, and I felt my face get all hot in embarrassment.

I shook my head. "No. He put his arm around me. But, that's all."

There was a small silence, then. Evan was looking at me, and I still was feeling sort of embarrassed. I could tell he was

mad, but trying not to show it.

"He stole some money from Ivy," I said, with a burst of words.

Evan's gaze flickered over my face. "What makes you think that?" he asked.

"I don't just think it. I'm nearly certain of it."

"How come?"

In a rush of words, I told him how Ivy had left that one afternoon, and I'd let J.R. come into the office to hang around, and then

left him inside alone while I'd gone out to talk to Kenny. And then, the money had come up missing from Ivy's desk.

Evan was quiet for a long time. At least, it seemed like a long time. It really wasn't, I know.

"You have to tell somebody," he said, finally.

"I told Ivy-"

"Is she gonna call the sheriff?"

I realized I didn't know that. If she was, then I would have to tell what my part in it had been. I hadn't gotten the impression from

Ivy that she was going to do that, though.

"I don't think so," I said.

"She oughta, though," Evan said.

I shrugged a little, and looked at him, feeling emotional again.

"Maybe Crane will talk her into calling the sheriff," Evan said then.

Instantly, I felt my stomach plummet even lower.

"She told me she wouldn't tell Crane-about how it was, with me leaving J.R. in the office like that, and all," I said, lamely.

Evan took a moment to pick at a dabble of paint on the four-wheeler's handle, as if thinking, and then he looked at me

again. "Well, but that's not right, Harlie. You need to take care of things. Own up to your part in it."

Deep down, or maybe even not so deep down, I knew that he was right about that. But, that still didn't mean that I

wanted to do it.

"I've learned my lesson, though," I said, trying to sound convincing. "About trusting strangers, and all that."

"It's not Ivy's lesson to learn, Harlie. She shouldn't have to pay for your mistake."

I felt my face flame all hot again. I could remember a time in the not-terribly distant past, when Evan had never made much sense

whenever he hollered at me about something. It had been all angry words back then. But, boy howdy, things had changed.

He had this lecturing thing down to a science now. He knew just how to pierce thru my veneer and shake my conscience into

behaving.

"I'll take the money from my savings, to pay her back for what he took," I said.

When he only looked at me, not saying anything, I added, "That's what I was thinking of doing, anyway."

Still quiet. I couldn't stand it. "What do you think, Ev? Should I do that?"

"You could," he said. "Ivy still ought to call the sheriff, and have somethin' done. I mean, it may have been you leavin' him

there alone that gave him the opportunity, but he's the one that stole the money. He ought to be held accountable for it."

I let out a deep sigh, and nodded. "You're right," I said.

"That doesn't mean it wasn't damn dumb of you to help create this whole mess," Evan said. I guess he couldn't resist

ending with a jagged point to this lecture.

"I know," I said, humbly.

Crane came out of the house thru the back door, and headed towards the Jeep. He gave a whistle to me.

"Ready to go?" Crane called out. "I just have to load up some tools."

I nodded to him that I was ready, and then turned to look back at Evan. I was wondering if he was going to keep things

to himself, or push me to tell, or just what.

"Figure out what you think you should do," Evan told me.

I should have liked that remark. As though he was going to let me make up my own mind. I had a feeling there was more to it

under the surface, though.

"Okay," I said.

"And, Harlie, this Brotherhood crap that you keep on spoutin' off about? That's just ridiculous."

"I know. I don't mean it-"

"Stop sayin' it, then. I don't wanna hear it from you again. Okay?"

I nodded, feeling chastened. "Sorry," I mumbled.

"Okay. Hey, tell Crane I'll come in town in about an hour and help with the roof." He pushed the start button on the four-wheeler,

and then over the noise, said, "See ya later."

I echoed his 'see ya later', and then went to help Crane tote things to put into the Jeep.

7


	64. Roof repair

Driving in the Jeep to Murphys with Crane, we were mostly quiet. It was a warm day, and the breeze with the top down

felt good to me. I was thinking about everything. Wishing I could snap my fingers and fix everything. With Ivy. With Kenny.

"Hey," Crane said, reaching over and tapping my knee.

"Huh? What?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"You're lost in thought somewhere, huh?"

"I guess. Did you say something to me?" I asked.

"I was asking about your classes. How are things going? Anatomy still giving you trouble?"

"It's not too bad," I told him.

"What's your grade in there?"

"A high C, I think. Maybe a low B."

"Probably be a good idea to know your exact grade. With no guessing," Crane said, and I nodded. I didn't want him to

start talking about grades, and everything that went along with it in depth.

There was a bit more quiet then, and I studied his profile as he drove.

"Daniel will be here soon," I said, with a sigh.

"Yeah," Crane said, sounding glad.

I thought for a moment, and then I said, "I know it's not really my business, but what are things between you and Ivy?"

Crane gave me a sideways glance, and I talked on. "I'm not trying to poke into your business, or anything. I just wondered."

"Do you worry it might affect your job, or your relationship with Ivy?" he asked then.

Wow. That was direct.

It deserved a direct reply.

"No," I said. "I think all of that would be the same. I just-" I hesitated. "I just like Ivy. And, I want you to be happy," I finished

truthfully.

Crane gave me another look, and then said, "I like Ivy, too. We have things in common with one another. I think we might

see where things go between us."

I nodded, and gave him a slight smile. "That's good," I said.

7

We were at the office by now, and Crane drove around to the back, and shut off the Jeep, getting out and fastening on

a tool belt.

The back door was open, and Ivy came out, wearing tattered jeans and a shirt covered with paint.

"Hi," she greeted both of us, with a smile.

She and Crane talked for a few minutes, and I waited, listening while Crane said that Brian and possibly Evan, were

going to be coming along to help after a bit.

I spoke up, and said that I would answer the phones, and work around the office, if Ivy wanted to help Crane.

I could tell that she wanted to, by the smile she sent to me.

"Thanks, Harlie! That's great, especially considering there's other things you'd probably rather be doing on your day

off from school."

"I don't mind," I said. I asked her what all she needed me to do inside, and she named off a few things.

So, I went inside after that, and up to the front office. I opened all the windows, and the front door. I swept up, and

tidied up Ivy's desk. Although, it wasn't like when Doc G was there, and the desk was a mess most of the time. Ivy was

definitely neater.

I fed the dogs that she was boarding, and refilled their water bowls, taking the bowls to the back sink and giving them a

scrubbing. In between I answered the phone, taking down several messages and making an appointment for rabies vaccines for

two cats.

I was picking up some shelving that had been left in a corner of the building, in the back, and couldn't help squealing when

a couple of mice ran out from underneath. I felt foolish then. Who wants to be a vet, but squeals when a mice appears? I told

myself it was only the surprise of it. I was still struggling with the shelving, trying to lift it and lean it against the wall out of the way

when Crane came thru, Ivy beside him.

"What are you doing?" Crane asked me, and I turned, nearly losing my grip on the heavy shelving.

"Here," he said, stepping over quickly and taking over, lifting it with ease and standing it up.

"Thanks," I said.

"That's been here ever since I've been here," Ivy said. "Laying right there, just like that."

"It was always here with Doc G, too," I said.

"So, what's the deal today, then?" Crane asked me. "The sudden need to clean it up?"

"I don't know," I said, not able to say that I felt I should go 'above and beyond' for Ivy after what had happened with J.R. "I just thought

I'd keep busy."

"Wow," Ivy said, stepping thru to the office and then back again. "I'd say you for sure did that. The place looks amazing, Harlie!"

"It's okay," I said.

"You didn't have to do all of this, though," Ivy continued.

For just a moment, our eyes met. "Yeah, I wanted to," I said. I knew she understood by the expression on her face.

Crane, busy taking off his tool belt, and laying it aside, said, "Let's go get lunch," to us.

"I'm ready," Ivy said. "Starving, actually."

"Perfect," Crane said, and paused, looking at me. "Peanut. Come on."

"I think I'll stay here, and keep working," I said, and picked up the big broom against the wall, thinking I would sweep out the corner.

"What? Harlie, come on," Ivy said, looking surprised.

"You have to eat," Crane said.

"I brought some fruit, and crackers, and stuff," I said.

Crane wrinkled his forehead a bit, and then said, "You're going to go and eat a decent lunch. Put the broom down, and come

on with us."

I leaned the broom back against the wall, and went to pass in front of Crane, heading towards the front to go outside.

We walked over to the café, where it was already crowded with lunch eaters. Crane motioned towards a back table that was

empty, as Marie called out to us, with a glad smile.

When she came over to the table, to take our orders, she accepted the hug that Crane stood up to give her, said hello to Ivy,

and ran her hand over my hair fondly.

She took our orders, three lunch specials, and went back to work.

At first Ivy and Crane talked about other things, like the veterinary program at the college she'd gone to, the Mustangs, things

like that.

I had began to relax a bit, and was preparing to eat from the dinners that Marie had brought to us, when Crane brought up the

subject I wished to avoid.

"Haven't seen or heard anything from the absentee roofers, have you?" he asked Ivy.

"Nope," Ivy told him.

"Since the first of the week sometime, right?"

"Yeah," Ivy paused to think. "I think it was Tuesday."

"Likely they're long gone by now," Crane said, taking a bite of roast beef.

I swallowed the bite I had in my mouth, and hesitated, wondering whether I should speak up or not. I decided to, thinking that

this whole thing was mess enough. Maybe it would help if I told what I knew.

"We saw one of them last night, over in Angels Camp, at the Pizza Parlor," I said, casually.

"You did?" Crane asked, and I nodded.

"I'm surprised they're still around here," Ivy said.

"I don't know about all of them," I said. "We just saw the one."

"Which one?" Ivy asked me, and our eyes met again, in a private understanding.

"The one named J.R.," I said, and I saw Ivy's expression tense a bit.

"So, at least one of them is still around," Crane surmised. "Maybe we'll be able to get some of your money back."

He was talking about the money Ivy had paid the roofers to begin working. At least half of what the job was going to cost her. He, of course,

had no clue about the money gone from the front office desk.

"Could I?" Ivy asked him. "I mean, how does that sort of thing work?"

"They didn't do a whole lot of anything in the time they were here," Crane said. "Basically, they took your deposit, and

did nothing for it. If you've got names, the sheriff might be able to find them."

"That would be good," Ivy said. She still said nothing about the fifty dollars, and I knew she didn't plan to. She was just going

to let that go. Compared to what she'd given as a deposit, the fifty dollars probably wasn't a lot, but I knew to Ivy, it was still

a lot. She needed every penny.

Should I speak now, though, in front of both of them, or wait until I could speak to them each alone about it?

I decided to lead with courage.

"You can tell the sheriff about the money that he took from your desk, too," I said, twirling my fork in my

mashed potatoes, and not looking at Crane.

"What's this?" Crane asked.

I laid my fork on my plate, and looked to Ivy. It was Ivy's to tell.

"One of them took some money from my desk drawer," Ivy said. "Fifty dollars."

Crane was looking at Ivy, surprised. "You didn't mention that before," he pointed out.

"That's because of me," I said.

"What?" Crane asked, again, looking totally confused.

I shot Ivy a look of apology and regret.

"It's not Ivy's fault," I said. "She didn't say anything, because she didn't want me to get into trouble."

There was a loaded silence at the table. The conversations at the other tables around us went on, but none of the three of us

kept up the pretense of eating at that point.

"Why would you get into trouble, Harlie?" Crane asked. His eyes were intense.

"Because I'm the one that let J.R. come into the office," I said.

"Let's talk about it out of here," Ivy said, and Crane nodded in agreement, and we all stood up, pushing in our

chairs. Crane went to pay for the meal, which a good portion of had gone uneaten, and Ivy and I stood outside on the

sidewalk, waiting for him.

"You didn't have to say, Harlie," Ivy said, kindly.

I sighed. "Yeah," I said, in disagreement. "I did."

We walked back over to the office, in silence, and then, once inside again, Crane went to sit on the edge of the desk.

"So, what's this all about?" he asked me.

I sat in one of the extra chairs, rubbing my hands on my jeans. "Ivy had to leave one day last week, and I let J.R. come in,

and hang around awhile," I admitted. "And then-Kenny came by, and I went outside to talk to him, and I left J.R. in here

alone. And, the next day, Ivy noticed the money from the desk missing."

"And they didn't show up again after that?" Crane asked, but it didn't really sound like a question.

"No," Ivy answered. "They didn't."

There was a stilted silence in the room. Ivy had her arms crossed, and I thought she looked a little nervous herself. I realized

that I'd put her into an awkward position. One that she'd volunteered for, true, but still. It wasn't right. She and Crane were in

a 'new' sort of a phase in a friendship, or relationship, or whatever it was going to be. And now, she might be concerned about

whether Crane would think that she'd lied to him or something like that.

I sat up straight, determined to take my licks, so to speak.

"Ivy was just trying to help me," I said, in defense. "She wasn't going to say anything about it, because it was my fault, and she

knew that I didn't really want to tell all of you about it."

Crane was quiet, his eyes never leaving my face. I could tell he was turning things over in his mind.

Then I thought that I wasn't helping Ivy any. It would still sound as though she was trying to conceal my misdeeds from

the family.

"Ivy didn't want any of those guys in the office," I plowed on. "I knew that, but I still let him come in. It wasn't like she was

hiding anything from you, though," I pointed out. "And she told me what she thought about it."

"That's right," Ivy said. "Harlie and I talked it over, and she knows she shouldn't have done it. That it wasn't the best decision."

Crane reached up to scratch his cheek, and then stood up. "We'll talk about it some more. Alright?" he said to me.

I nodded at him, and he headed towards the back, presumably to climb back up on the barn roof again.

I stood up, too, and looked at Ivy with a regretful sigh. "He's mad," I said.

Ivy raised her eyebrows in question. " _That's_ angry?" she asked. "Not like any angry man that I've ever seen before."

"For Crane, it's angry," I verified. And sighed again.

"Hmm," Ivy said, looking towards the back where Crane had disappeared to.

"He won't be mad at you, though," I said, with certainty. "He's not irrational when he's mad like some people."

For a moment, I thought Ivy looked almost amused. "Harlie, you are something else," she said. "Your entire family is

something else."

She smiled at me. "I think you'll feel better. Now that you told."

We could hear clattering and voices from the back, and Ivy pushed the swinging wooden doors open to look

towards the back.

"It looks like another truck is here. It is. It's Brian," she announced.

"Lovely," I said, thinking that it wasn't lovely at all.

7


	65. Crane's cross-examine

It wasn't just Brian. It was Evan, too. And Guthrie. Full force McFaddens. I stayed inside the building until I literally could think

of not one more thing to be done. I went out the back, into the sunshine, and stood on the ground, looking up, and watching

as the group worked in unison. Guthrie hollered at me to toss a soda from the old farm truck up to him. I went to the cooler in the

truck bed, and took out a can of Dr. Pepper and then, on second thought, took another. I figured Evan would want one, too.

I stood there, looking up again, and hollered to Guthrie. He came over to the edge of the roof and held out his hands. I gave the can

a toss and he managed to catch it.

He opened it and it sprayed everywhere, and I heard him laugh.

I called out to Evan and asked him if he wanted the other one. He said he did, so I tossed it upwards to him.

I thought that it was useless to stand there on the ground that way. The answering machine was on in the office. I might as well

go up and see what I could do to help on the roof. So, I began to ascend the ladder. With trepidation, but I was doing it.

I'm not terrified of heights. They aren't my favorite thing, but I'm not petrified of them, either. I just like to go at them slowly.

At the top of the ladder, I hesitated, and then scrambled out onto the roof on my knees.

There were McFaddens in various spots on the roof, and Ivy had her own hammer, and was pounding away at

a shingle.

Brian was the first one to catch sight of me. "Hey, peach. You don't need to be up here."

"I want to help," I said.

"With your eyes closed, you mean?" Brian asked me, jokingly.

"I can help," I insisted.

"Let her stay, Brian," Crane said, speaking from his spot in one corner of the roof.

"Okay by me," Brian said. To me, he added, teasing, "Just don't fall off and break your neck, and have to go to the hospital. I've got a

television show I don't want to miss tonight."

He was in a good mood, for sure. I figured later, when Crane talked to him about me, well then he wouldn't be in such

a joking mood.

"Okay," I said, deciding to enjoy my one last joke with Brian for awhile, once he'd heard. "If I do fall, I'll try not to break

anything important."

"Break your head, then," Evan tossed in. "It's not like you use it much, anyway."

He could have meant it meanly. Especially considering that he'd basically told me I'd been 'damn dumb' to hang out with J.R. But, that had

been when he was lecturing me. Now, he was grinning at me, and I knew that he was just teasing me, too.

"Hardee har har," I told Evan, crawling on my hands and knees.

I spent the next while doing just that. Crawling on my hands and knees over the roof, taking shingles or nails or something else

to the others when they asked for it.

We were wrapping things up for the day, or nearly. Everybody was still up on the roof, but just sitting now, stretched out,

and resting.

"I can't believe how much you all have done today," Ivy was saying with enthusiasm. "Unbelievable!"

"Believe it," Guthrie told her, with a grin.

"There's no stopping McFaddens," Ivy said, smiling back at Guthrie. "You did more in one day than those guys did in over a week."

"It's what friends do," Brian told her. He began to reach for his tools, and talking about getting home to eat supper.

They were packing up things into the Jeep and the truck after that. I went up front to gather up my backpack that I'd brought

my snacks in. I saw Lori standing across the street, sitting on the hood of her mom's car. I went out to talk to her, glad to

see her. Being with Lori always makes me feel better.

"Where's your mom?" I asked her, leaning against the car beside her.

"At the hardware store. How about coming over to my house to spend the night?" Lori suggested. "My dad's home, so I can't go out, but we

can watch movies and stuff in my room."

I suddenly wished that I could do just that. Lori has a really big bedroom, and her own television. It would be nice, to hang out

for awhile. Maybe she could help me figure out how to fix things up with Kenny.

"I'll go ask," I said, and left my backpack there with Lori, crossing the street to go back into the office. I went to the back

again, and outside. Brian was still talking about supper.

"Could I spend the night at Lori's?" I asked, in a general way, to both Brian and Crane.

"What about your diabetes stuff?" Brian was asking.

"I could go home first and get it," I began to suggest. Just as Crane spoke up, from where he was loading tools into the back of the Jeep.

"No, Harlie," Crane said, quietly, and I shot him a swift look.

There was a momentary stilted silence, between the three of us. Brian was quiet, looking puzzled.

When Crane looked up at me, he said, "I want you to ride home with me, so we can talk about some stuff."

I knew _exactly_ what 'stuff' it was that he wanted to discuss.

Still, I gave it one more attempt. I stepped a few steps closer to Crane, and said, really quietly, "I know, but I need to get my

head straight. Talking to Lori will help me with that."

"You'll have to settle for talking to me," Crane said, dryly.

"If we talk on the way home, then could I come back to Lori's later?" I pleaded.

"Would I be able to trust that you'd stay at Lori's?" Crane asked, his eyes intent on me.

I spoke without caution, disregarding that Brian was standing there, listening.

"Yes, Crane!" I said. "I don't want anything to do with him-"

"With who?" Brian demanded, stepping over nearer to Crane and I. "What's goin' on?"

Well, the jig was up now. I wished heartily that I had just kept shut up, and went along quietly with Crane, without

asking to go to Lori's. Brian probably would have found out anyway, but at least it would have been later on.

I looked at Brian, reluctantly, and then Crane again. "I'll go tell Lori I can't come over," I said, resigned to my fate.

And, then, before Brian could ask anything more, I went back into the building, and thru to the front, and out the

front door. I crossed the street to where Lori was still waiting.

I picked up my backpack, and slung it over my shoulder. "I can't," I said, with a sigh.

"That doesn't sound good," Lori said, sounding sympathetic.

"No," I said, and sighed again.

We said our goodbyes, and I told her I would call her later that night if I got the chance. I went thru the building yet again,

Out back, Ivy came to me, and said, "Thanks a lot for all your help today, Harlie. Let me grab you some money-"

As she would have turned to go and do that, I said, "No. I don't want any money for today."

"Don't be silly," she said.

"I just wanted to help out today," I said.

When her eyes met mine, I knew she understood what I was getting at.

"That's nice and all that, Harlie. But-"

"I still owe you for when you floated D.C.'s teeth, too," I said.

"Well, okay," she conceded. "Let's say we're even then, after today. How's that?"

"Okay," I said, thinking that would help my compromised financial situation.

"Okay," Ivy echoed, giving me a slight smile. I could tell she was wondering how things were going to go with

Crane and I.

Crane came over and he and Ivy began talking, and he said, to me, "Get in the Jeep."

I went and climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep, watching and listening as Guthrie held open the truck's

passenger door. "You goin' with us, Brian?" he called out.

I said a silent, fervent prayer that Brian would go with Evan and Guthrie, and not with Crane and I. I knew I would have

to face him at some point, but I thought if I could, I'd rather talk to just Crane first. I mean, since I was going to have to

talk, then it would be preferable to deal with just Crane, to begin with.

"Yeah, hold up a minute," Brian hollered back to Guthrie.

He paused beside the Jeep, on my side. For a long few moments he just regarded me, his look infathanable.

Then he said, "Make sure you talk to Crane. Don't hold out on anything."

Obviously, he knew somewhat of what was going on. I thought he must not know everything, though, or he would

appear angrier.

"Okay," I said.

He went on then, and got into Evan's truck, and they drove off.

Crane was there, at the Jeep in a few minutes. He got in, and started the motor, and we began to drive, down the Main

Street, and out of town.

"Tell me what happened," he began, by saying.

I looked to my left at him, and wrinkled up my forehead. "I did," I said.

"Tell me again."

I sighed. "Ivy had to go out on a call, and I said I'd stay at the office. And then, J.R. came around to the front, and

came in. He was hanging around, and-Kenny stopped by, so I went outside to talk to him, and then when I was done, J.R.

was outside, already. And then, the next day, Ivy said that there was some money missing from the desk."

Crane was quiet for a few moments, and I waited, and then when he spoke up again, I felt my stomach knot

with nerves.

"You're leaving out a few details, aren't you?" he asked me.

"What?" I asked, and then I said, "What else did Ivy tell you?"

Well, that was wrong to say.

Crane gave me a look filled with disapproval. "For your information, young lady, Ivy didn't say anything else. She said

she was going to leave that up to you."

"Oh," I said, and felt my face get all warm in embarrassment. "Well, what do you mean about details?"

"You know what I mean. You're stating the bare facts, and that's all."

I felt even warmer. "Okay," I said, with a sigh. "Ivy had said she didn't really want those guys to come inside,

and so she'd locked the back door. J.R. came into the front office, and he asked if he could hang around a while. I know I shouldn't

have let him-" I began.

"Why did he ask that?" Crane asked.

"What?" I asked. He kept firing these things at me so fast, I couldn't keep up.

"Why did he ask if he could hang around?" Crane clarified.

"He actually wanted to go out somewhere," I admitted. "I said I had to stay there, at the office."

"Uh huh," Crane said, and then, before I realized it, he had pulled over to the side of the road, and onto one of the grassy side

roads. I got even more nervous at that. He turned in the seat, to face me a little more.

"Details. Go on," he said.

"So, we were hanging out in the office," I repeated, and Kenny stopped by. And then, he got upset, so I followed him

outside, and talked to him for a few minutes. Maybe ten minutes or so, I don't know. And, then-"

"Just a minute," Crane said, holding up a hand at me. "What happened to cause Kenny to be upset?"

"He didn't really say, exactly," I began, and then, at Crane's unrelenting gaze, I said, "But, I'm fairly sure it was because I was

talking to J.R."

"Why would that bother him?"

"Because J.R. had his arm around me, and-" I hesitated. "Well, I think it just hurt his feelings."

"What happened between you and this guy? How far did it go?" Crane asked.

I thought back to Evan's earlier question of whether J.R. had 'messed' with me. Different brothers. Different ways of asking. But,

really, all the same, in the end result.

"He put his arm around me, held my hand. He didn't kiss me, Crane," I said. "He didn't even try."

"I imagine he had a larger scheme in mind than just kissing you," Crane said, sounding disgusted.

"You mean, like stealing from Ivy," I said.

"No, I don't mean stealing from Ivy," Crane said, tersely. "What I mean is, he was taking his time with you. So he didn't

frighten you off by coming on too strong at first. He was biding his time until he could take it a lot further."

The way that Crane said that part, about 'a lot further', well, it made a chill run down my back, even though it was

hot outside.

"Were you alone with him, any other time than that day in the office?" Crane asked then.

I looked away, down at my hands in my lap, lacing my fingers together.

"I met him at the Dari Kurl. One time."

I heard Crane sigh, and when he didn't say anything, I looked over at him, and I tried to figure out what he

was thinking at that moment.

"This is one big mess," he said.

I couldn't argue with that. I agreed.

7


	66. Heat in the kitchen

Crane and I sat there for a few more minutes, cars and trucks whizzing past us.

I spoke up, and told Crane that I wanted to fix things up with Kenny, but that he hadn't really seemed to want to talk

to me.

"Do you blame him for feeling that way?" Crane asked me.

"No," I said, reluctantly. "Not exactly."

"So you don't want to leave things the way they are, then? With him?"

"No," I said, again. "I didn't want to hurt him."

"You'll have to talk to him, then," Crane said, quietly. "Maybe he just needs some time."

I nodded, and then said, quietly, "I was thinking-maybe I could take out fifty dollars from my savings account, to repay Ivy

what was stolen."

Crane didn't answer right away, and I studied him, trying to get a read on him.

"I know you guys don't want me to take out of my savings, but I thought this might be an exception," I went on. "I don't want

Ivy to have a money hardship because of something that I did."

"Well, you're willing to take responsibility, on that angle. That's a good thing," Crane said, and I felt a little better. Though I

did wonder just what he meant by 'on that angle'.

"I can go to the bank tomorrow," I said.

"We'll see," Crane said. And then, "You're going to need to talk to the sheriff, and let him know how things happened."

I hadn't been certain that Ivy was going to call the sheriff, and I felt my stomach dip. I wasn't surprised, or anything, but

I still wasn't thrilled at the thought of having to explain to the sheriff.

"When do you think that might be?" I asked, feeling anxious. "When I would have to do that?"

"Ivy was going to call today, after we left, so I guess we'll get a call when they want to talk to you."

"Oh," I said, subdued. Another dark cloud hanging over my weekend.

"You just tell the truth," Crane said, quietly, and I looked at him.

He was looking serious, intent.

"Okay," I said, just as quietly.

"Hopefully they'll be able to locate the guys," he said.

"Yeah," I said, in subdued agreement.

He was still looking at me in that same way, sort of in a considering way.

"I'm not happy about you hanging around with a stranger," Crane said. "A guy who's likely a lot older than you. Somebody you know

nothing about."

"I know," I said, humbly.

"That wasn't so smart," he said.

I would have said 'I know' again, but, instead, I just gave him a look meant to convey that I knew how 'unsmart' it had

been.

"Why did you do that?" he asked me, then. I was thrown off a bit by that question. He didn't sound mad, exactly, just more-well,

intense.

"I don't know," I began.

"You _do_ know," Crane interrupted. "You had to have had a reason."

I hesitated, and then said, "I don't want to say."

"Why not?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me," I admitted.

He gave me what I took to be a "you're kidding' type of look, and I went on before he could speak.

"I mean, I know you're mad at me already," I said. "I guess what I really mean is, I don't want you to be disappointed in

me." I realized that ship had sailed, as well, so I again amended, "I know you're disappointed in me, too." I sighed. I licked

my lips. "I don't want you to think-that I'm totally stupid. Without any sense at all."

I finally stopped with my overflow of words, looking at Crane sort of pleadingly.

Crane sighed, too. When he spoke, his voice was really kind. "No matter what, I would never think that you are

stupid, Harlie."

"Really?" I asked him, hopeful.

"Really," he affirmed.

He was being so nice that, though that's not surprising where Crane is concerned, I still felt sort of weepy. It was almost

a relief to be talking to him like this, about all of it.

"Even if I make stupid decisions?" I asked.

"A bad decision doesn't make you stupid," he said.

Our eyes met, and then I took a deep breath, and said, "The reason I met up with J.R. at the Dari Kurl, and let him come

into the office, was because-it was sort of exciting, meeting him, and having him flirt with me. It made me feel-grownup."

"Flirting is one thing. Meeting up, and being alone with him, that's something else," Crane said.

I nodded, in understanding.

"Okay," Crane said, and started the motor back up again.

We'd driven for a few miles, in quiet, and I said, "So, what now?"

 _"Now,_ we hope Ivy gets her money back," he began. He turned to look at me. "And _now_ , you don't have anything to do with J.R., or

any other guy that you don't know at all."

"I promise," I said, sincerely.

"Okay. Good."

I hesitated and then dived in. "Did you tell Brian?"

Crane looked to his left at me again. "I told him what I knew. I told him you and I had to talk some more."

"Oh," I said, in a small voice, looking straight ahead.

7

Once at home, Crane got out of the Jeep, and began gathering up tools from the back seat to put away. I helped him do that,

and we both looked up as we walked to the shed where the tool boxes are. There was a whistling and we saw Ford waving hello,

from where he was riding in from the pasture.

We both waved back to him, and, once the tools were put away, I followed Crane towards the house, and we went in

thru the back door. The kitchen was hot, even with two fans blowing full force. Brian was standing at the stove, flipping hamburgers

on the griddle.

"Whew," Crane said, in reaction to the heat in the kitchen.

"Yeah," Brian said, in agreement.

"Should have barbequed outside," Crane told him.

"We're out of charcoal," Brian said.

Guthrie came stomping up the basement stairs, his hands full of packaged hamburger buns. "This is all we got," he said, laying the

packages on the table.

Brian cast a glance at the two packages of buns, and said, "We'll just have to use bread."

"Let's make homemade ice cream tonight," Guthrie suggested.

"By the time I get done cookin' supper for this crew, I'm gonna be done for the day," Brian said. "I'm beat."

"I'll make it," Guthrie said, going to the cabinet to take down the sugar canister.

"And turn the crank," Brian told him.

"Yeah. I'll do that, too," Guthrie said. "All you have to do is sit back and enjoy it."

"Well, alright then," Brian said.

I was listening to them joke around, when Brian's gaze landed on me.

He didn't say anything. He just looked at me.

I felt censure in that look.

"Daniel call or anything?" Crane asked, going to take out a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator.

"Hannah said he called about two, and said he'd stopped for somethin' to eat," Brian said.

"So no ETA?" Crane asked.

"No, he said he was gettin' tired. He wasn't sure if he was gonna try to drive thru the night or stop."

"He'd better stop," Crane said, pausing in his tea pouring, and looking worried.

I knew how terribly long that drive was, from personal experience. I wished that Daniel would stop, too, and get some

rest at a motel, instead of attempting to drive on.

"I told him that," Brian said. "Told him we'd be kickin' his butt if he didn't."

Guthrie was still banging around, looking for the ingredients to make the homemade ice cream.

Brian was scooping the hamburgers off the griddle, and putting them onto a platter.

"Where is everybody?" Crane was asking Brian.

"Spread out all over the place," Brian said. "I told them to hurry up."

"Get some plates out," Crane told me.

I went to wash my hands at the sink. "Can we use paper plates?" I asked.

"Sounds good to me," Crane said.

I pulled down some paper plates from off the top of the refrigerator, and began laying them around at the seats at the

table. Hannah appeared, carrying Isaac, whose face was all red and crinkled up.

"Teething, huh?" Crane asked her, running a hand over the top of Isaac's head.

"Yes," Hannah said, sounding tired. "He's miserable."

Crane set his glass of tea on the table, and reached out for the baby. "Here. I'll take him."

"Thanks," Hannah said, looking grateful.

She sank into a chair at the table. I went to pour a glass of tea for her, and set it in front of her.

"Oh, thanks, sweetie," she said.

I told her she was welcome, and finished with setting the plates around, and went to start filling glasses with water.

"Guthrie, help Harlie with the silverware," Brian ordered.

Guthrie paused in his ingredient-searching, and went to take silverware from the drawer.

"Maybe Kristin would like to come over for ice cream?" Hannah asked Guthrie.

"Yeah. Maybe so," Guthrie said. "I'll see if she can get a ride over from Buddy or her mom."

I had my doubts about Buddy doing anything nice for Kristin, but I didn't say so.

"Kenny might like to come over, too," Hannah suggested, in a general way.

I was quiet, flicking a look at Crane, where he was standing, holding the baby.

"I'll call him," Guthrie said.

I sighed, and then hoped no one had heard me do so.

Ford and Adam came in thru the back door, and then Clare came in from the living room, where she'd been talking on the phone.

"How's your sister?" Brian asked her.

"She's doing alright," Clare said, going to sit in her spot at the table. "It was so good to hear her voice."

With everybody present except for Evan, we all sat down to eat. Evan was, from what I took from the conversation,

occupied with Nancy somewhere.

That, predictably, led to talk of the wedding, and what all still needed to be done around the house to prepare.

"I hope it's cooler than this next Saturday," Hannah said.

"How many people for the final count?" Brian asked, reaching for the barbeque sauce.

"Thirty or so, inside for the wedding," Hannah said. "And then, for the reception outside, I really don't know for sure."

"Why not?" Adam asked, from his end of the table. "Looks like they could give us an accurate number."

"They weren't sure about some of Nancy's family, from Missouri," Hannah said.

"How many is that?" Adam asked.

"Twelve, I think," Hannah said, taking a drink of her tea.

"Sounds like the size of this group around here," Adam said, with a gesture around the kitchen table.

"Yes. I hope we have enough food," Hannah said, sounding worried.

"We'll be fine," Adam said.

"If we run out of meat, they can eat cake and carrot sticks," Brian said, with humor.

"I just want everything to be nice for Evan and Nancy," Hannah said, not looking amused at Brian's joke.

"It's gonna be beautiful," Adam said, smiling at her.

"The McFaddens throw great weddings," Clare said, with a smile at Brian. "Remember?"

"Yeah. I remember," Brian said, and leaned over to kiss Clare quickly.

7

It was while I was throwing some of the paper plates in the trash that Brian said something to me.

"Let's have a talk after a bit, peach," he told me.

I looked up at him, feeling reluctant.

Before I could answer, Adam, walking by on his way to the coffee pot, added, "Yeah. Outside by the picnic table, in about-twenty

minutes?" he asked, looking at Brian.

"Twenty minutes," Brian agreed.

Great. Just great.

7


	67. The Saving Grace

I was proud of myself. I didn't drag my feet. I finished what I was doing, and went out to the yard, to the picnic table, before Brian or Crane

were even there. Only Adam was there. He was sitting, facing the sun as it was beginning to lower from the sky.

Adam was sitting on top of the table, his boots resting on one of the seats, and I sat on the seat, close to where his feet

were at. I looked towards the sun setting, too.

"Crane talked to Ivy," Adam spoke into the quiet. "The sheriff wants you to come in and make a statement. Sometime tomorrow."

"Oh," I said, looking up and over at him.

"With Daniel coming and everything, the morning would probably be the best time to go," he said.

"Okay." I sighed.

"You'll just tell them what happened, and the way that it happened," he said.

"Yeah. That's what Crane said, too."

I studied Adam's profile, trying to sense how he was feeling and thinking.

"I guess I'm not a very good judge of character," I said, regretfully. "I thought he was nice."

"Sounds like an ass to me," Adam said.

"Yeah," I said, in agreement, wishing Adam didn't sound so curt.

"Sometimes, Harlie-" Adam began, and then paused.

I bit at my lip, wanting him to continue, and yet not wanting him to.

He shook his head slightly, and I thought he wasn't going to say more.

"Sometimes," he went on, quietly, and then amended it to, "A lot of the time, I worry for you. I want you to think

things thru. Not be so impulsive."

"I'm sorry for making you worry so much," I said, and I meant it. Adam had enough to deal with, and enough other people

to concern himself with.

Adam regarded me seriously for a long few moments, and when he spoke, his voice was kind.

"Worrying about you, and everybody else in this house is part and parcel of the package for me," he said. "It comes with

the job."

"You do a good job," I told him. "Taking care of everybody."

I think our talk would have continued well, it was going so good. Brian and Crane came out of the back door at that time,

crossing the yard to the table. Brian was first, ahead of Crane, and he was walking with a purpose.

Brian wasted no time.

"What were you thinkin'?" he demanded of me, standing there, his hands on his hips.

I looked at Crane, and he gave me a small nod of encouragement, and came to sit down beside me.

"I thought he was nice," I told Brian.

"Why? Because he told you that you were the prettiest girl that he'd ever seen?" Brian asked, with marked sarcasm.

I winced at that sarcasm.

"He didn't say that," I defended. "Not exactly, anyway."

"But somethin' similar to it, huh?" Brian carried on.

I went quiet. Brian hadn't seemed so angry inside when he suggested this 'talk'. But, he must have gotten himself

'rev'ed up' between then and now.

"Harlie?" Brian prompted, relentlessly.

"I thought he was nice," I said, again.

"Good Lord," Brian muttered, sounding exasperated, and sank into one of the yard lawn chairs, to the side of the picnic table.

His expression was harsh. "There's always gonna be some guy with smooth words," he said. "You've got to use your head."

This was horrible. I wished that Adam or Crane would speak up, and tell Brian to ease off, but neither one of them said

anything. I guess they figured that Brian still needed to make his point.

"I'm going to be more cautious," I said.

"Skunk's loose!" came a holler from the barn, and Guthrie came out, moving fast to catch up to Pepe, who was scurrying

around the front of the barn.

Before I could react, or think to go help, Guthrie had captured Pepe, and was holding him against his chest, carrying him.

The four of us had watched the escape, and capture, and once Guthrie had gone back into the barn,

Adam said, "His name oughta be Houdini, instead of Pepe."

"That's right," Brian said, and I thought he sounded amused.

There was another moment or so of silence, and then Crane spoke. "Harlie came clean, and she's trying to make things

right. She knows she was wrong."

Ah. Crane. My hero. Trying to ease the path.

"What are your plans?" Adam asked me, then. "After you talk to the sheriff, I mean?"

I wasn't sure just what he meant. I answered with what plans I did have.

"I was thinking I might take out money from my savings, to pay Ivy back the money that was stolen," I said.

"I think you ought to work it out," Brian said. "Make more of an impression on you that way, instead of taking it out

of your savings account."

Wow. He _was_ mad.

For a moment it felt as though it was only Brian and I there. I was determined to defend myself. At least as much as

I was able to.

"I worked today, all day," I told him. "And I told Ivy I didn't want to be paid for it. I'm trying, Bri."

"Today's work should be more than half," Crane volunteered.

"Sounds right," Adam said.

"Actually, Ivy and I talked about it, and today paid for D.C.'s teeth floating," I said.

"Well, it's good that you're talkin' to her about things," Adam said.

"Yeah," I said. I hesitated and then said, "So, do you think I should work out the money that was stolen? Instead of

taking it from my savings?" I asked it in general, but I looked at Brian.

"I guess that's up to Ivy," Brian said, after a moment or so. "If she needs the money right off, to pay a bill or whatever, then

you can take it out of savings." He looked at Adam and Crane. "Right?"

"Right," Crane said, and Adam nodded in agreement.

"This whole thing, losing the advance money she gave them, is probably hitting Ivy hard financially, isn't it?" Brian asked Crane.

"Yeah. It is," Crane said, sounding regretful.

"Well, we can help her finish up the roof, anyway," Brian said.

"If there's anything else that she needs," Adam began. "Well, we'll do what we can."

"She appreciates it," Crane said.

I wondered then, and was super hopeful, that my lecture was over. Since they were discussing the roof again, and Ivy.

"We've talked," Crane said, gesturing between me and himself. "Harlie was honest about what happened. That's worth

something."

"Yeah. It is," Adam said, in agreement.

"So," Crane said, "It's been a long day. I'm beat. I'm gonna head on inside."

Crane stood up, gave my shoulder a pat, and then went towards the house.

Left there without the buffer of Crane, I looked at Adam, and then Brian, picking at my cuticles.

"We've talked about the stolen money thing," Brian said. "Let's talk about this guy. This J.R. fella."

"Okay," I said, determined to push thru this. I was tired, and I was getting a headache.

"Where'd you go with him?" Brian asked.

"I didn't ride with him anywhere," I defended. "I met him at the Dari Kurl, and he got in the truck with me."

Brian's expression darkened. "And then what?"

"And then, we ordered hamburgers, and he paid for mine, and we ate the hamburgers," I said, lightly. There might, just might, have been

a glib tone to my voice.

"You think this is funny, do you?" Brian demanded of me.

"No, Bri. I don't think it's funny," I said, and sighed. "I don't think it's funny at all."

"Sounds as though you do," he denied.

"I don't. I just-" I hesitated.

"You just what?"

"I just know that I made a mistake. Thinking he was nice, without knowing him. I won't do anything like it again."

"So, you don't think you need to be talked to about it. Is that it?" Brian challenged.

I looked away from him, and down at my jeans, picking off a flake of mud with my fingernails.

"I didn't say that," I said.

"Well, that's damn fine that you didn't say it," Brian said. "Because when I think you need to be brought to heel, then that's

what's gonna happen, you hear me?"

"Yeah," I said, still looking down.

"Try again," Brian raised his voice. At least a six and a half on the scale. Maybe a seven.

I looked up and met his eyes.

"Yes. I hear you," I said.

"I don't see where you think you need to give me attitude," he went on.

"I'm not!" I protested. "I mean, if it sounded that way, then I'm sorry. I just feel bad about all of it."

The emotion in my voice must have come thru, because Brian and Adam exchanged a look between them.

Guthrie came walking past, quickly. "Time to stir up the ice cream," he announced, as he passed on by, to

go inside the back door.

"Ice cream sounds good, doesn't it?" Adam said, giving my leg a light slap.

"I don't feel much like ice cream," I said.

"Come on now, sugar," Adam said, reaching out to rub my shoulder. "We're just concerned, about how it happened, and

not wanting it to happen again."

"It's not going to happen again. I'm not even going to talk to anybody I don't know."

"I don't think you have to go that far," Adam said. "In the morning, you'll talk to the sheriff, and then ask Ivy about

working off the fifty dollars, or drawing it out of your account at the bank. And then-well, we'll move on. You learned

what not to do."

I nodded, looking at him gratefully. He was being so nice.

"I'm glad you told the truth," he said, quietly, and I felt a nerve in my stomach jump. I knew what he was getting at,

and my face got all hot, thinking of our 'meet-up' in the barn a few weeks previously.

Adam leaned down and kissed the top of my head, and then he stood up, stretching his back.

As he walked away, towards the house, I looked over at Brian.

He was looking at me already, and I couldn't tell what he was thinking. He looked so un-approachable.

"You didn't exactly tell the whole truth, though, did you?" he said. "When you called home, and asked if you could go

to the Dari Kurl, and I just thought you were going to hang out with your friends. But, really, you were goin' to meet this guy."

I faced him, silent, trying to think of what to say.

"That's not really being honest. Is it?" he asked, and I knew he didn't mean it as a question.

Suddenly, I was so tired of being lectured. Grilled.

"Would you have let me go?" I challenged. "If I'd told you on the phone? Is that what I should have done? Would you have let me?"

My breathing was sort of ragged, from emotion.

Something crossed over Brian's face. I was ready for him to yell. When he did speak, though, his tone was even, quiet. It would have

been better if he had yelled, even though I hate that, too. This sort of quiet from him is ominous.

"You know that I wouldn't have," he said.

I could hear the measured anger in his voice.

"So, what now?" I drove on, still challenging. "Even though Crane and Adam thought talking to me was enough-I guess

you don't think that, huh?"

At that outburst of mine, Brian got quiet. Totally. As in, he just looked at me. And said nothing at all.

I felt all quaking inside at his demeanor.

And, just like that, my little display of defiance was over.

"I'm sorry," I said, really softly, and my eyes filled with tears.

Brian sighed, and then stood up. He came over and stood in front of me, reaching down to pull me up, and then he

kept his hands on my arms.

He let his eyes run over my face for a couple of moments, and then said, "Are you done sassing me now?"

I nodded, and he ran his thumb over my cheek. "Harlie-" he began, and then stopped. He moved his hands then, to cup

both sides of my face.

"I want so much for you, peach," he said. "Adam, too. We just want you to stay on the right path."

"I know," I said. "It's just sometimes-it's hard, because I have to be accountable to so many people. Like a bunch of dads-not

just one."

To my surprise, Brian laughed. "I bet it does seem that way sometimes, doesn't it?"

He moved his hands again, to my shoulders.

"You promise you're going to measure what the next smooth talking guy says to you?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Remember somethin' else, alright? In a family, like ours, in a friendship, like with Ivy, in any relationship that's important, no matter

what happens, it's always better to talk things out together. Besides love, the saving grace is bein' able to talk to each other," he said.

"I like that," I told him. "That's a nice way to say it."

"Alright. Time to 'move on', like Adam said."

He gave me a hug, and we went inside, where Guthrie was deeply involved in the ice cream mixing. Clarence had been let into the

kitchen, and Isaac was crawling over to where Clarence was laying.

Evan showed up after a few minutes, and then Kristin's mom dropped her off. The kitchen was overflowing with people. The ice

cream was mixed, and the back door opened and shut a dozen times, with everybody coming in and out. Guthrie and Evan and Ford

were at the picnic table, turning the ice cream. Somebody had the idea to make a bonfire, to roast hot dogs.

I went inside to paw thru the cabinets, looking for marshmallows to roast. I was standing on the step stool, with one foot

on the counter, looking thru the top shelves in the kitchen. I heard the front door open and close again, but I didn't pay

much attention. There was so much noise from everybody outside, and my mind was intent on those marshmallows.

I heard steps coming into the kitchen, and then they paused, at the doorway, just as I found, and then dropped, two

sacks of the jumbo marshmallows onto the kitchen floor.

"Darn it," I said, and then Kenny reached down to pick them up, and handed them to me, from my perch on the counter.

I was so flustered to see him that I didn't say anything for a few moments.

"Thanks," I managed, finding my voice.

"You're welcome." He gestured towards the front doorway direction. "I just came on in."

"Sure. That's okay," I said.

"Guthrie called, and invited me over," Kenny said then.

"Yeah." I held up the marshmallows. "We're gonna have a bonfire."

"Cool."

There was silence. We could hear the shouts of laughter from outside.

"Guess I'll go on out," Kenny said, and moved as if to go out the back door.

Brian's words were still reverberating in my ears. The 'saving grace' he'd said, was talking.

"Kenny-" I said, and he paused, turning to look back at me.

"Can we talk for a few minutes?" I asked him.

"You don't have to, Harlie," he said. "I mean, Guthrie invited me over, but it doesn't mean that you have to

feel like-"

"Kenny!" I interrupted. He stopped talking, and looked at me questioningly.

"I _want_ to talk to you. It has nothing to do with Guthrie. Please."

"Okay," he said.

I stepped down from the step ladder, and then I laid the marshmallows on the counter, and rubbed my hands on my

jeans.

"I made a mistake," I began. "That guy, J.R., he's a jerk. He stole money from Ivy, and him and his crew just left her

hanging, without finishing the roof job."

"Oh man, that's rough," Kenny said, sounding regretful.

"Yeah," I said, and sighed. "Crane and Brian and everybody, they're gonna help finish the roof."

"That's good of them to do."

"Yeah," I said, again. I studied his face, thinking how healthy and tanned he looked. It seemed like he was still getting taller, too.

"I'm sorry, that you saw me like that," I said. "Sitting with him, I mean, and acting so stupid."

"You're not stupid, Harlie."

"Well, what I mean is, I don't like him," I said.

Kenny was surveying me seriously, out of those eyes that seemed to get bluer.

He didn't say anything, and I suddenly wanted him to believe me. More than anything.

"I don't," I said. "I mean, I didn't kiss him or anything."

"Would you have?" he asked, and I was surprised by his directness.

"Maybe," I admitted. "But, I wouldn't now. I mean, even if he hadn't stolen the money, or left the job, I wouldn't want to

hang out with him. Or go out with him."

He was quiet, studying me. The silence seemed to fill the kitchen.

"Say something," I said, finally.

"I don't know what to say."

"Say that you forgive me," I told him.

"You don't owe me anything, Harlie. If you want to go out with somebody else, then that's the way it is. I don't want to put

any pressure on you."

"Maybe I don't feel any pressure from you!" I said, raising my voice. "Maybe I don't want to go out with anybody else! Maybe

I want you to just say you forgive me for hurting you! Because I know I hurt you, Kenny!"

I stopped, to catch my breath, and brushed my hair out of my face.

"Yeah. Okay. It hurt, seein' you with him," Kenny said.

"I knew it did!"

Quiet, again. Something inside of me, I like to think it was woman's intuition, told me to stay still.

"I forgive you," he said.

We surveyed each other seriously for a long few moments, and then I nodded, "Good."

He gave me a half-smile, and I smiled back.

"So," I said, "Are we good now?"

"Yeah. We're good," he said. He stepped closer to me, and put a hand on my waist. He had his head bent, and I felt his

breath on my face. "Alright if I kiss you now?" he asked me.

"Yeah," I said, feeling breathless.

He leaned down more, as if to kiss me. But then he paused, raising his head a bit. "One thing," he said.

"What?"

"You said somethin' about not wantin' to go out with anybody else. You mean that?"

I realized that I did, indeed, mean it. Eddie was still there, but he was far at the back of my mind. He was a wish. Kenny was

real. He was here.

"Yeah. I mean it," I said.

"Cool," he said, and then he kissed me.

It was a very satisfying kiss. When we broke apart, he grinned. "I sure didn't expect this when I came over here tonight."

"Talking things out is good," I said. "That's what Brian says."

"Brian's a smart guy," Kenny said, and bent to kiss me again.

There was then, suddenly, the hooting of a truck horn. Over and over. And then, hollering from outside.

"It's Daniel!" I said.

Kenny nodded and grinned, and I turned to run thru the living room, and down the front porch steps, intent on

being the first one to greet Daniel.

7

This completes this particular story of Harlie and the rest of the McFaddens. Thank you to all my faithful readers and reviewers, I

am so appreciative of you all. For those of you who are DANIEL fans, and regret the fact that he didn't have an appearance in

this story, never fear! My next McFadden story will be nearly totally filled with Daniel angst, and feeling. A surprising sort of

story for Daniel and Harlie. Are you wondering yet? Yes, tune in, friends. Same Fanfiction channel, Same Fanfiction McFadden

writer! Peace and Love.


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